


Wait for Me to Come Home

by faith2727



Category: The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Angst, Crossover, Elena!Gets!Shit!Done!, F/M, Grief/Mourning, because why not, occasional smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2015-01-28
Packaged: 2018-02-24 17:52:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 29,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2590739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faith2727/pseuds/faith2727
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-5x22, D/E. Devastated by the loss of Damon and Bonnie and alienated from her friends and family, Elena scours the globe seeking a way to bring them back. Can an old enemy become an unexpected savior? Will the outcome reignite a war? Crossover with The Originals in later chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Not my characters, obviously. Just playing in their world for a while.
> 
> The title of the story comes from Ed Sheeran's song "Photograph."

_I miss those blue eyes_  
 _How you kiss me at night_

The feel of his fingers gliding lightly over her skin made her shiver in anticipation. Even with her eyes closed, her hands found the soft silkiness of his hair and tangled in it, bringing his mouth to hers. His lips skimmed over hers, teasing, testing. When he pulled back, she started to protest and he took advantage of the opportunity, swooping down to take her mouth properly. His tongue brushed against hers, and she savored the unique taste of him—bourbon and . . . citrus? Oranges. Had to be.

When he finally broke the kiss, she was panting softly. He traced a path down her jaw to her throat, alternating between nips and hot, open-mouth kisses. As he reached a particularly sensitive area on her neck, just below her ear, she held her breath. At the same time, he shifted, and she felt his erection press against the most feminine part of her. She spread her legs further and reached down between them to grasp his hard shaft, stroking him gently from base to tip. On the fifth stroke, he let out a low growl and grabbed her wrist, pinning her hand next to her head. “That’s enough of that, you little minx,” he rasped, giving her earlobe a sharp nip with one of his fangs.

She couldn’t help but smile at the effect she had on him. “What’s the matter, tough guy? Can’t take a little teasing?”

He chuckled and used his free hand to pinch her nipple lightly. He laughed harder when she squealed and tried to bite his wrist. Deciding she’d had enough, she lifted her hips until the head of his cock slid between her folds. His laugh died on a hiss, and he buried his face in her throat once more. Lacing his fingers with hers, he eased his hips forward, entering her fully and finishing what she had started. Sighing with pleasure, she surrendered to the steady rhythm he set. His fangs scraped against her neck, and her whole body tightened in response. Turning her head to give him better access, she spoke the words that were always on the tip of her tongue now. Words she didn’t need or want to stop saying. Ever. “I love you, Damon.”

He hesitated for a moment, and she wondered if it still caught him off guard. Her thoughts came to an abrupt halt as she heard his slightly muffled response, felt it in her soul.

“Love you, ‘Lena. Always.” With that, he thrust deep and buried his fangs in her throat, his possession complete. As Elena cried out from the force of her release, she knew that even an eternity with Damon would never be enough.

*****

Elena came awake on a gasp, her body still burning with desire. As she reached blindly toward the other side of the bed and felt nothing, realization slammed into her, turning pleasure into devastation and bringing tears to her eyes.

It was only a memory, an agonizing reminder of the blissful summer they’d shared just one short year ago.

Damon was not here beside her, holding her in the aftermath of their lovemaking. In fact, he’d been gone for 91 days, 12 hours, and—she looked at the clock—seven minutes.

No, not just gone. Dead.

The buzzing of her phone brought her back to the present, and she grabbed it off the nightstand. The name showing on the display made her tighten her grip until the screen cracked. Touching the green phone icon, she reluctantly answered. “What do you want, Stefan.” Her voice came out in a strange monotone that surprised even her.

“Uh . . . hello to you, too, Elena.” Stefan’s voice was stilted, yet he still managed to convey the emotion she’d been lacking—concern, pain, heartache. Too bad she couldn’t muster enough energy to care. She’d left Mystic Falls the day after they’d b—. She had to force herself to mentally finish the sentence. The day after they’d buried Damon in the Salvatore crypt. After that, her friends had started calling her every day. When she didn’t pick up and didn’t return their calls, they backed off to once a week, then every other week. Finally, they just gave up and let her do the calling, which she did just to reassure them that she was still walking the earth and to keep them from trying to look for her. The fact that Stefan had called must mean something was up.

After an uncomfortable pause, she forced herself to speak again. “So? What’s going on?”

Another awkward silence before Stefan cleared his throat. “Alaric’s worried about you. We all are. He thinks you’re up to something . . . dangerous.”

_Shit._ On some level, she understood their concern, but she didn’t want or need it right now. She had more important things to focus on. “Thanks for worrying about me, but I’m fine.” As she waited for Stefan to ask the inevitable question, she ran through a laundry list of lies about her whereabouts and activities and tried to choose the one that was least likely to bring them to her doorstep. She didn’t have to wait long.

“Have you flipped the switch?” Aaaaand there it was.

“No. Have you read any news reports about a serial killer on the loose or an unexplained string of animal attacks? You know how I get when my humanity’s off.” It was true. Her switch _wasn’t_ flipped, not fully anyway, but it _was_ frayed. Stefan should recognize the difference. He’d done the same a few years ago after his latest Ripper binge.

“No, but—”

“No ‘but’s. I haven’t flipped the switch, okay? I’m dealing with this the best way I can. The _only_ way I can. Damon’s dead, and so is Bonnie. Again.” She sighed, feeling exhausted even though she just woke up. “I’ll be back when I’ve sorted things out. I need space.” _Damn._ That had to be the most words she’d strung together for any of them.

“Elena, we’re all trying to deal. You’re not alone in this. He was my _brother_.” Stefan’s voice cracked on the last word.

“I know. I remember how that feels,” she said quietly.

“And I remember what it’s like to lose the person you love, the other half of yourself. And your best friend. You’d do anything to get them back.” He paused for a moment. “Just come ho—. Um, back. We can help each other.”

She picked up on his choice of words immediately. _Home._ They didn’t have one anymore. The Travelers had removed all but their own special brand of magic from Mystic Falls, leaving Elena, Stefan, Alaric, and Caroline unable to return without risking their lives. Even the boarding house was off-limits. Not that she could bring herself to go back there. Snapping back to the present, she tried to sound as level as possible. “Not yet. I’m sorry, but I need more time. Tell Alaric and the others not to worry. Goodbye, Stefan.” Not wanting to give him a chance to say anything else, she hung up.

Tossing the phone on the bed, she made her way to the bathroom on shaky legs, her body still reeling from the dream. Catching her reflection in the mirror over the sink, she did a double take. After all this time, it was still unnerving. Granted, her restless night had mussed the once-perfect curls and her eyeliner was smudged, but there was no mistaking the face that stared back at her. Or rather, the mask.

A knock at the door got her attention and she tensed, not knowing what to expect even though she was thousands of miles away from those who would try to search for her. Opening the way cautiously, she was relieved to find that it was only a smiling hotel employee with a room service tray.

“Good morning, Ms. Pierce. Here’s your breakfast, as requested. 8 o’clock on the dot,” he beamed proudly before dropping his eyes to admire the cleavage peeking out of her low-cut tank top.

Even in death, Katherine Pierce was as much a part of her life as ever.

*****

A feeling of warmth washed over him. It was comforting, almost like being wrapped in a blanket fresh out of the dryer on a cold winter’s day. Damon focused on the sensation, letting it sink in. He’d never been a believer in Heaven, or the Great Beyond, or whatever you wanted to call it, let alone the idea that he stood a chance in hell—pun intended—of ending up in such a place. Still, it was hard to argue given his current surroundings, or lack thereof. A soft light emanated from an unknown source, but there was no scenery to speak of. Part of him wanted to be bothered by the nothingness of it all, but the sense of peace, of calm, was too overwhelming.

His thoughts drifted, his final conversation with Bonnie replaying in his mind.

_“Do you think it’ll hurt?”_

Surprisingly, it hadn’t. When the bright light overtook them and the Other Side collapsed, everything had faded away until they found themselves here. It was odd, but sometimes he could sense Bonnie, and every now and then, a snippet of her thoughts would reach him. He chalked it up to the fact that they’d been holding hands when everything went down. He was sure she was hearing some of his as well.

Aside from his mysterious connection with Bonnie, his memories were his constant companions. He’d thought the whole life-flashing-before-your-eyes bit was supposed to come before death, not after. Must be his brain hadn’t gotten the message and was making up for lost time.

Only moments ago, he’d been reliving a particularly pleasurable occasion from last summer. Vivid images flashed by in quick succession—Elena, her head flung back in ecstasy, hair fanned out across satin pillows, skin slick with sweat. He could still hear the sweet sounds she’d made as he brought her to orgasm, the first of many that night.

_God, Elena._ He kept returning to his time with her in the woods before everything had happened. This particular memory was annoyingly vague. He could only recall one thing clearly—their kiss. The rest of it was unfocused and muted, like a Polaroid that hadn’t properly developed. He sensed it was something important, but every time he tried to force himself to remember, it would dissipate completely. Had he told her he loved her, or given her a message, or made a promise . . . ?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Not my characters, obviously. Just playing in their world for a while.

_And I’ll probably never have it all figured out_   
_But what I know is I wasn’t meant to walk this world without you_

The clicking of Elena’s too-tall heels echoed off the sides of buildings as she made her way down the deserted sidewalk. She hated the damn things, but they were a necessary evil. Well, maybe _hated_ was too strong a word. The corner of her mouth lifted briefly as she remembered Damon’s reaction the first time he’d gotten an eyeful of her so-called fuck-me pumps, the monstrous black heels being the only thing she’d had on at the time.

A soft shuffling noise up ahead made her slow her pace. She scanned each of the darkened doorways, bracing herself for an attack. If anything, her travels had taught her that Katherine’s enemies were everywhere. No wonder the bitch had been on the run for five hundred years. Obviously, Klaus wasn’t the only one she’d pissed off during her too-long life.

There was a rustle of fabric before a small figure suddenly appeared in the doorway closest to her. On the verge of jumping backward, Elena managed to curb the impulse and instead turned to face the person standing quietly in front of her. Not sure what to expect, she took a moment to study the long, black, hooded robe that completely obscured the person’s identity. Elena was starting to wonder if she’d made a mistake in coming here when a woman’s voice, rough and heavily accented, finally spoke from beneath the folds of material.

“You must be Katerina.” Before she could react, a gnarled hand reached out and grabbed her wrist. A jolt of power traveled up Elena’s arm, and she had to force herself not to pull back. “Hmm, indeed.”

Releasing her, the woman stepped back and opened the door, motioning for her to enter. As the hinges let out a groan straight out of an old Vincent Price movie, Elena shivered and reminded herself why she was here. Repeating Damon’s name in her mind like a mantra, she gathered her courage and put on her best Petrova swagger. Sauntering through the door, she stopped short when it slammed behind her. Whirling around, she struggled to get her bearings, but even her advanced eyesight couldn’t make out anything in the abyss-like darkness. Before she could say anything, the room was instantly awash with the glow from dozens of candles.

_Whoa._ Turning in a slow circle, Elena took in the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves packed with ancient, hand-bound volumes. Grimoires? The walls and tabletops were covered with arcane symbols, and the fire now burning in the small hearth was an unnatural mix of blue and green flames.

“So tell me, vampire, what brings you here? One would think a creature of your cunning and reputation could manage without needing to ask favors of witches.”

Even with the woman’s hood obscuring most of her face, Elena felt like she could see straight through to her soul. Lifting her chin, she used her best vengeful Katherine voice. “Something’s been taken from me. I want it back.”

“Something? Or some _one_?”

_Creepy._ Wondering if the woman could read minds, Elena continued carefully. “A witch, actually. She has . . . protected me through the years.” Trying to cover the hitch in her voice, Elena hurried on. “She and my lover were caught on the Other Side when it disintegrated.”

The witch was silent for so long that Elena thought maybe she hadn’t heard her. About to repeat herself, she swallowed her words with a gasp as the candles flared.

“A witch I can understand, but since when has Katherine Pierce ever concerned herself with the fate of a lover?” The woman was obviously more familiar with Katherine’s habits than she’d let on.

“I sired him.” Elena’s next words made her nauseous, but she forged ahead. “He’s especially adept at . . . keeping me entertained.” She added a lascivious little smile for good measure.

The witch scoffed and turned back to the fireplace. “I cannot return your lost toys.”

Losing patience and growing tired of the charade, Elena snapped. “Why not?”

Oblivious to the angry vampire behind her, the woman began drawing symbols in the ashes that had collected beneath the grate. “There is no place left to look. When the Other Side collapsed, every being unfortunate enough to be stuck there disappeared along with it.”

“There must be something! Can’t you dig through your dusty, old grimoires and find some hocus pocus that will bring them back?” Elena knew she’d gone too far, but she didn’t care. She’d been getting the same goddamn answer for the past three months.

The woman slowly turned to face her, wiping her sooty hands on her robe. “Your witch might have been willing to move heaven and earth for you, but do not mistake me for her.” Lifting her hand, she pointed at Elena. As intense pain seared through Elena’s veins, it felt like the witch was making her blood boil. Literally. She dropped to her knees, beads of sweat forming on her brow. “Insolent, selfish vampire. I suggest you leave, unless you’d like to find out what happens when a supernatural creature dies without the benefit of the Other Side?”

The agony gradually subsided, and Elena scrambled to her feet. She briefly considered snapping the witch’s neck but figured the powerful old crone would take her out before she had the chance. Throwing one last look over her shoulder, she wrenched open the door and sped off into the night.

*****

The morning sunlight streaming through the curtains left intricate lacy patterns on the hardwood floor. As Damon traced one of them with his finger, he thought of the things he would usually be doing at this time of day: exploring the woods behind the house, pestering the maid for a treat from the kitchen, or spending time in the barn with his favorite horse, Julius. But today was not just another November day. Today, he was going to meet his new brother or sister.

An anguished cry from upstairs made Damon cover his ears. He hated that his mother was in pain and there was nothing he could do to help. When she’d gone into labor, he’d offered to fetch anything the doctor might need, but his father had shooed him from the room claiming he’d only “get in the way.”

As the minutes turned into hours, Damon tried to imagine what it would be like to have a younger sibling. If it was a girl, he’d take her to play with the kittens that were always running around the barn. He’d protect her, like a big brother should. But what if it was a boy, a little brother he could go fishing and hunting with?

A voice interrupted his reverie, and he noticed that it was getting dark outside. A servant was moving from room to room, lighting the sconces on the walls. Damon looked up to find his father standing at the foot of the stairs. “Damon, did you hear me? There’s a new member of the Salvatore family. Come meet your new brother.”

A _brother_. Jumping up with a big grin on his face, Damon raced for the stairs, but his father brought him to a halt before he could clamber up them. “Easy, now. Your mother’s exhausted, so don’t startle her.”

Going as quietly but as quickly as he could manage, Damon made his way to his parents’ bedroom, his excitement growing with each step. Finally reaching the doorway, he stopped and cautiously peered inside. His mother was resting, her dark hair a stark contrast to the mountain of snowy white pillows surrounding her. It was the color of midnight, just like Damon’s.

Just as he was about to enter the room, his mother’s eyes opened. Despite her weariness, she greeted him with a brilliant smile. Her voice was no more than a whisper, but he heard every word. “There you are, my handsome boy. Anxious to meet your baby brother?”

A sound Damon had never heard before made him furrow his brow. As he listened, there was another soft sigh followed by a faint gurgle. His mother laughed quietly at his expression. “Don’t look so perplexed. Come see for yourself.”

Curiosity eventually won out, and Damon made his way over to the side of the bed. Nestled in his mother’s arms was a small bundle. The blanket moved slightly, and he caught a glimpse of pink skin and a little hand, fingers curled into a fist. His eyes widened as his mother shifted, bringing the baby closer. Big, blue eyes a shade darker than his own stared up at him. Without realizing he was doing it, Damon reached out and gently ran his finger over the baby’s hand, marveling at the softness of the skin. His hair was dark blond, more like their father’s. Feeling a light squeeze, Damon looked down to find tiny fingers grasping his own. In that moment, he vowed to always protect his brother, no matter what.

Grinning at his mother, Damon had never felt happier. “Look, Momma. I think he likes me.”

“Of course he does, silly goose. You’re his big brother.” She paused to adjust the baby’s blanket.

“What’s his name?”

She gave him another radiant smile. “Stefan.”

*****

As the memory of Stefan’s birth gradually faded, Damon felt a sharp pang of regret. In the end, he’d managed to keep the childhood promise he’d made on that fall day in 1847. Unfortunately, everything had happened so quickly that there hadn’t been time for a proper goodbye, or any kind of goodbye, really. Not that his brother would’ve been able to hear anything he said.

Turning once more to happier times, he let the past slip away and instead found himself thinking about his and Elena’s last road trip. A snippet of conversation from their very first one made him marvel at how far they’d come since their ill-fated trek to Atlanta.

_“You promise not to do that mind control thing with me?”_

_“Yes.”_

On this particular trip, mind control definitely hadn’t been a concern. A month before Elena was due to leave for Whitmore, he’d suggested they take a break from Mystic Falls for a bit—just the two of them, his trusty Camaro, and the open road. When he’d refused to tell her where they were going, she’d pestered him endlessly. At one point, she’d even threatened to dump his precious bourbon collection down the drain.

After one bottle had disappeared, Damon tossed Elena and a couple suitcases in the car and headed west. Mountains gave way to endless miles of flat farmland, and when mountains were once again visible on the horizon, Elena had realized what their ultimate destination was . . .

“Vegas?! Really?” Before he could say anything, she flung herself into his lap, forcing him to pull over.

“Damn, woman. Give me a warning next time, yeah?” Laughing as she peppered his face with kisses, he finally managed to grab both of her wandering hands with one of his. Gripping her waist with his free hand, he stilled her exuberant movements. The joyful, carefree smile on her face made him wish every moment could be like this. Wild. Unpredictable. Uninhibited.

Raising her hands to his mouth, he kissed the tip of each finger. “Don’t get me wrong, baby. I _love_ where this is headed, but the multi-car pileup we’re likely to cause is going to put a serious crimp in our plans.”

“You’re no fun,” Elena grumbled, giving him her patented pout. She shifted on his lap, pressing her hips closer to his. “Are you sure I can’t change your mind?”

Closing his eyes briefly, Damon used what little willpower he had left to scoop her up and slide her back into the passenger seat. Before putting the car in drive, he leaned over and whispered hotly in her ear. “Tonight, I’m going to give the word ‘fun’ an entirely new meaning.”

Elena’s sharp inhale and thundering heartbeat told him she’d gotten the message. Smiling to himself, he sped off, leaving a cloud of dust in their wake.

_A few hours later . . ._

Damon watched from his spot on the edge of the bed as Elena, fresh from the shower and wrapped in an oversized bath towel, made her way over to the wall of glass that provided them with a glorious panoramic view of Sin City. The penthouse suite had every luxury imaginable, but he only had eyes for the gorgeous brunette now peering out the window with a look of wide-eyed wonder.

“This is amazing,” she breathed. “I can’t believe we’re actually in Vegas. Caroline is going to freak when I tell her.”

Coming up behind her, Damon pulled her into his arms. “It’s nice, if you’re into that kind of thing,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder. “Personally, I’m far more interested in _you_.”

Leaning back against his chest, Elena turned her head and gave him a mischievous little look. “Oh, is that so?”

“Mmhmm.” He took a moment to savor the feel of her body resting against his. After a few minutes, his mouth skimmed over the shell of her ear. “Lean forward and put your hands on the glass,” he whispered.

“Wha—”

“Shh.” His finger skated across her lips. “Trust me.”

He felt a shiver go through her before she did as he asked. Smiling in approval, Damon reached in front of her and tugged on the edge of the towel. As it pulled free and the terry cloth landed in a pile at her feet, he stepped back to admire the exquisite sight in front of him. Her tan skin glowed with the illumination from the miles of neon lights below. Unable to resist, he traced a line down her back, following the path of her spine. “So beautiful.”

With a quick motion, he stripped off his shirt and tossed it on the floor. His jeans were next, the slide of the zipper and Elena’s soft gasp the only sounds in the room. Moving to stand behind her once more, he curled an arm around her waist and pulled her backward slightly, just enough for her to feel the evidence of his desire. Letting go of her waist, he cupped her breasts, rolling her hard nipples between his thumb and forefinger. She arched her body into his touch as he moved a hand down her belly until his digits were brushing against the bare skin of her mound. Parting her slick folds, he slid a finger inside of her. “Fuck, Elena,” he groaned. “You’re so wet, baby.” Adding a second one, he continued his slow torment until Elena was panting, her breath leaving cloudy patches on the glass.

Withdrawing his hand, he heard Elena whimper. “Please, Damon. I need you.”

“Hang on, sweetheart.” Nudging her legs farther apart, he positioned himself at her entrance. Pushing forward, he teased her with a few shallow thrusts before filling her completely. Pausing to let her body adjust, he scooped her hair out of the way and trailed his tongue up the side of her throat. Elena let out a long moan as he began to move again, pumping into her at a steady pace. Knowing that neither one of them was going to last very long in their current state, Damon thrust into her faster, gripping her hips to keep her steady. When he felt her walls begin to tighten around his cock, he dropped his hand between her legs and pressed his thumb against her clit. She cried out, her whole body trembling. “That’s it. Come for me, Elena.” Feeling his fangs elongate, he eased her head to the side and sank his teeth deep into the tender skin of her neck.

Damon’s bite pushed Elena over the edge, and her scream of pleasure echoed off the walls of the vast suite. Seconds later, Damon’s muffled shout rang out as his own orgasm slammed into him. Retracting his fangs, he ran his tongue over the mark he’d left behind, making sure not to waste a drop of Elena’s precious blood. When he felt her sag against him, he carefully lowered them both to the carpeted floor. Keeping them joined, he situated her so that she was lying on top of him with her head resting on his chest. Running his fingers through the smooth waves of her hair, he closed his eyes and basked in the post-coital bliss.

It wasn’t very long before Elena stirred and began covering his chest with feather-light kisses. Inching higher until she was nibbling on his collarbone, Damon knew exactly what she wanted. He tilted his head back to give her better access and was rewarded when she began to suck on the skin directly above his carotid. Enjoying the vampire version of a hickey, he moaned as soft lips were replaced with sharp teeth. His rapidly hardening cock twitched as Elena’s fangs pierced his throat, and his hips began moving of their own volition.

As the mingled sounds of their pleasure filled the room once more, Damon knew he had finally found the person who made eternal life worth living.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Not my characters, obviously. Just playing in their world for a while.

_But all I see is you and me_  
 _The fight for you is all I’ve ever known_

A flash of lightning briefly illuminated the dimly lit tavern. The crash of thunder that followed made the windows rattle in their panes. As the rain began to come down in earnest, Elena tossed back the shot of tequila that the obviously smitten bartender had given her “on the house.” Ignoring the way he stared at her, she kept her eyes glued on the conveniently placed mirror on the wall behind the bar that let her see everyone entering and exiting the local watering hole. The person she was supposed to be meeting still hadn’t arrived, and she was trying desperately not to let her irritation show.

Another rumble of thunder vibrated through the old building, and she drummed her fingers on the worn wood of the bar, growing increasingly tired of the waiting game. She smiled darkly; it seemed the weather was commiserating with her foul mood. Thanks to her confrontation with the bitch witch in London, her level of frustration had risen nearly to the boiling point. After scouring countless cities and towns on almost every continent, she still hadn’t found anyone willing to help her. No matter how many witches, warlocks, shamans, mediums, and seers she’d tracked down, all of them had claimed that Damon and Bonnie couldn’t be located, let alone brought back to this world. She was running out of places to look and people to threaten. Coming to Katherine’s homeland was a huge risk, but it seemed to be the location most likely to give her what she wanted.

On top of that, she’d spent another restless night, this time reliving her and Damon’s trip to Vegas. The dreams were always vivid, but this one had felt like it was happening all over again. When she’d woken up, her skin had still been tingling from the feel of his skilled hands on her body.

Rubbing her temples more out of habit than necessity, she looked up when she heard the door open once more. The man who entered was of average height with nondescript looks. She watched him scan the crowd before his gaze landed on her. As he walked toward her, she sank deeper into her guise, knowing that any misstep, especially here, could prove deadly.

Waiting for him to reach her, she stared down at the drink in front of her—another freebie from her admirer behind the bar. Trying to decide whether she should down it and go with the flow or ignore it in favor of keeping her wits about her, she was saved from having to make a decision when she felt something brush her arm. Turning to her left, she found Mystery Guy on the stool beside her.

Taking in his slightly disheveled hair, black jacket, and worn jeans, she couldn’t discern anything that screamed “danger!” When she’d spoken to him on the phone, he’d claimed he was a vampire, but unless she dropped some vervain in his drink, she had no way of knowing if that was fact or fiction. She hoped for his sake that he was indeed what he’d said he was. Anyone stupid enough to tangle with her in her current state had better be more resilient than your run-of-the-mill human.

“Katherine?” His voice was quiet, proving that she wasn’t the only one with reservations about this meeting.

She spoke softly as well, figuring that if he could hear her over the din, it would confirm his supernatural, hopefully vampire, status. “Yes. And you are?”

“Elias. I’m the one who contacted you last night and asked you to meet me.” He hesitated for a moment. “We should go. Too many sensitive ears here.”

Glancing behind her, Elena wasn’t surprised to see more than a few sets of eyes quickly look elsewhere. _Perfect._ Hopping off her stool, she stopped when Elias put a hand on her arm.

“Not together. We’re less likely to be followed if we leave separately.” His eyes briefly scanned the room before returning to her. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew a small, folded piece of paper and gave it to her. “Go to this address. I’ll meet you there.” As he turned to leave, it was her turn to grab his arm.

“Hang on. How do I know this isn’t a trap? I never told you exactly what it is I’m looking for.”

He smiled in a way that did nothing to ease her concern. “You don’t. You’re just going to have to take my word for it.” Dropping his voice to a whisper, he continued. “Rumor has it you’re looking for some kind of über witch. I just happen to know where one can be found.” Not giving her a chance to argue further, he turned around and disappeared out the back door.

_Fan-freakin’-tastic._ She had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach that this was going to be the last in a long line of disappointing leads. But what choice did she have? Any chance to try and bring Damon and Bonnie back was a risk worth taking. Heading toward the entrance, she sent up a silent prayer to anyone who would listen before going out into the storm.

*****

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Staring up at the decrepit building in front of her, Elena double-checked the address for the hundredth time. Unfortunately, the peeling numbers on the wall matched the ones scrawled on the piece of paper Elias had given her. Tucking the note back into her pocket, she resumed studying what appeared to be an old warehouse. Most of the windows were either cracked or broken, and there didn’t appear to be any lights on inside.

Deciding there was no point in trying to sneak in when Elias was already expecting her, she approached the mangled front door and tested the handle. Not locked. Giving it a shove, she winced when the rusty hinges squealed in protest. _Shit._ So much for a stealthy arrival.

The inside of the building was pitch black, just as she’d surmised. Entering cautiously, she jumped when the door closed with a loud bang. _Not again._ “Elias?”

The faint sound of a match being struck caught her attention, and a candle near the back corner flared to life. Moving toward it, she stopped when a man’s face was revealed in the weak light. His brown hair was streaked with gray and looked like it hadn’t been brushed in months. The oversized jacket he was wearing had several small holes in it, and the gleam in his eyes suggested a hint of madness. As the sinking feeling from earlier reared its ugly head once more, Elena tried to mask her uneasiness. “Who are you? Where’s Elias?”

“Relax, pretty one. He’ll be here soon.” His voice was raspy, as if it hadn’t been used in some time.

The man shuffled away from the candle, and Elena tracked his movements with wary eyes. “You didn’t tell me your name.”

“It’s not important.”

She was on the verge of pressing him for an answer when the sound of the side door opening announced Elias’s presence. At least she hoped it was him.

The man spoke again, this time from the shadows to her left. “Ah, Elias. Just in time. I trust you have what I need?”

Elias appeared carrying a satchel, which he placed on a rickety table. “It’s dark as a tomb in here. Couldn’t you light a few more of those?” he said, pointing to the candle.

“One is enough. What’s the matter? Scared of the dark, boy?” The man snickered as he pulled various items out of the bag and laid them on the table. He quickly stashed something in his pocket, but Elena couldn’t tell what it was. “Shall we begin?”

She stepped closer. “Wait a minute. I haven’t even told you why I’m here.”

Shooting her an exasperated look, the man cocked an eyebrow. “You haven’t exactly been subtle—Katherine, is it?—in trying to find someone willing to bring a witch and a vampire back from oblivion.”

Taken aback by the fact that he already knew what she wanted, Elena was momentarily speechless. Swallowing a few times to clear the imaginary clog in her throat, she tried to keep her voice level. “You can do it?”

“Yes, if you’re done interrupting me.” He pushed a dingy metal bowl toward the center of the table. “Ready?”

When Elena stayed where she was, her body temporarily frozen while her thoughts warred between hopefulness and skepticism, the man held out his hand with a sigh. “I don’t have all night. Give me your hand.”

Snapping out of her daze, she was instantly on alert. “What are you doing?”

“Not very familiar with magic, are you? I find a little blood usually helps to get things started.” The wild look had returned to his eyes, and Elena stared in silence as he pulled a wicked-looking knife out of his pocket. As the curved blade gleamed in the candlelight, she realized that that must have been what he’d hidden earlier. The rational part of her mind, what was left of it anyway, was screaming that something was seriously wrong with this scenario, but the desperate, heartbroken part had taken over and was winning the fight.

Deciding she had nothing to lose, Elena was reaching toward the man when a blur of movement registered in her peripheral vision. Before she could react, Elias gave her a brutal shove that sent her sprawling into the table. Grabbing her by the back of the neck, he pinned her facedown on the dusty surface and used his free hand to hold her arm over the bowl. Struggling to free herself, Elena watched in horror as the man, now chanting in some oddly familiar language, dragged the blade over her exposed wrist. Wherever the metal made contact with her skin, it felt like acid was eating away at her flesh.

The man pulled the knife away and smiled in satisfaction as her blood began to pour into the bowl. When the cut didn’t immediately heal, Elena’s eyes widened. She saw flashbacks of her and Stefan trapped in a rotting wooden shack surrounded by a circle of—

_Travelers._ This guy wasn’t a warlock. He was a goddamn Traveler. Cursing herself for her own stupidity, Elena summoned all of her strength and reared back against Elias’s hold. When his hand slipped off her neck, she wrenched her arm free and elbowed him in the face. Only temporarily stunned, he was quick to come at her again. Darting out of the way at the last second, she watched as he crashed into the table and the still-chanting man. The bowl of blood fell to the floor with a metallic clang, its contents splattering on the vampire already scrambling to his feet and the now unconscious Traveler.

Elena only had a moment to brace herself before Elias was racing toward her. Using his own momentum against him, she spun him around and slammed him into the wall. As a large crack bloomed on the cement behind him, Elena sped over until she was face-to-face with the sneering vampire. “So, what was your grand plan? Let that guy”—she gestured in the direction of the man lying in a crumpled heap—“drain my blood and then kill me?”

He laughed, wiping a hand across his gore-smeared face. Popping a finger in his mouth, he paused as if savoring the flavor of Elena’s blood. “Mmm. I’ve never been into the cannibal thing, but you’re pretty tasty. I could make a fortune selling this to the highest bidder.”

“Good luck with that, asshole.” Curling her fingers into a fist, Elena surged forward, her hand punching into his chest and breaking through his ribcage. Latching onto his heart, she began to slowly pull back.

Mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, Elias grabbed her wrist. “Let me go, you crazy bitch,” he rasped.

“Why? So you can kill me? I don’t think so.” She tightened her grip and twisted ever so slightly. When Elias screamed in agony, she relaxed her hold. “You couldn’t even come up with a proper witch. Too bad. Looks like you’re no longer of use to me.” Tugging until she heard the sound of muscle tearing, she waited for the next round of wailing to end.

“ _Fuck!_ STOP! Stop! I do know of a witch that can help you,” he wheezed.

Struggling to hear him over the ringing in her ears, Elena finally made sense of what he was saying. “You’re lying. Again.”

Elias started speaking so fast that she had to concentrate to figure out what he was babbling about. “Word on the street says a powerful witch resurrected a vampire a few months ago.” When she scowled at him, he lifted his hands in a show of surrender. “It’s true. I swear.”

“Where?” she demanded.

“New Orleans.”

*****

Something strange was happening. At first, it had been subtle, a lingering sense of unease gradually wearing away the peaceful feeling to which he’d grown accustomed. Now, Damon was seeing flashes of things that didn’t make sense, things that clearly _weren’t_ memories. He’d recently had a vision of Elena dropping to her knees as some hooded figure—a witch, he guessed—threatened her life. He hadn’t understood what he was seeing, but as echoes of Elena’s pain rippled through him, he realized he was getting glimpses of her in the present time.

Just now, he’d seen her being held down while a man sliced into her arm with a knife and collected her blood in a bowl. Like the previous occurrence, he had actually felt what she’d felt—the cut of the blade and the intense burning sensation that followed. It had passed quickly, but it was enough to tell him that something was horribly wrong.

From what he could gather, Bonnie was having a similar experience with Jeremy. Apparently, he was back to being a balls-to-the-wall vampire hunter who didn’t give a damn whether he lived or died. His latest venture had left him unconscious in an alley with a broken arm and several cracked ribs.

Damon wracked his brain as he tried to figure out what the hell was going on. Why were they only seeing these things _now_? Anger and worry seared through him at the idea that Elena was suffering and there was nothing he could do about it. He wasn’t alone; Bonnie’s frustration and fear were palpable.

Seeking a way to distract himself from the endless parade of questions marching across his mind, he refocused his attention on trying to piece together the elusive memory of him and Elena in the woods. The fragments were as fragile as a spider’s web: one tug and the whole thing would tear apart. If only he could remember what they’d said to each other—

_“Look at me, Damon. Do you see a future with me? Because that’s_ all _I see.”_

_“Elena, I’ve seen it since the second I laid eyes on you.”_


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Not my characters, obviously. Just playing in their world for a while.

_Some days I feel broke inside but I won’t admit_   
_Sometimes I just wanna hide ‘cause it’s you I miss_

Damon cradled Elena’s lifeless body in his arms as he entered the dilapidated house where Alaric and Jeremy were anxiously awaiting news of the plot to derail Klaus’s sacrifice ritual. He shook his head ruefully. _What a mess._ Despite Stefan’s negotiations, Elena’s tearful pleading, and Bonnie’s explosive power, they’d still failed to stop it. Even their ace in the hole, Elijah, had proven he was only a man of his word when it suited him. _Bastard._

Approaching the couch, he leaned in and murmured next to Elena’s ear. “Come back as a vampire, I’ll stake you myself, so don’t.” Placing her carefully on the ratty piece of furniture, he wished it was a bed covered in the finest fabrics and the softest pillows. His bed, perhaps.

Crouching down beside her, he stroked her silky brown hair. “’Cause I can’t stand the idea of you hating me forever.” As he waited for her to open her eyes, he thought of all the reasons she didn’t deserve this. First her parents, then Jenna, then Elena herself, and if Bonnie’s spell worked, John would be added to the list before too much longer.

The sound of Ric and Jeremy rushing into the room made Damon cringe. _Fuck._ They didn’t know what state Elena was going to be in when she woke up, and now he’d have to tell them what had happened to Jenna.

Jeremy was the first to break the silence. “How is she?”

“I don’t know yet.”

Ric spoke next, and the combination of hope and dread in his voice made Damon want to track down Klaus right that instant and tear his goddamn heart out himself. “What about Jenna?”

Damon turned around slowly, the bleak look on his face confirming his best friend’s worst fear. “No,” Alaric whispered.

Flicking his gaze to Jeremy’s shocked expression, Damon answered the question with an apology. “I’m sorry, Jeremy.”

Returning his attention to Elena, Damon tried to come to grips with the fact that she might come back as the very thing she desperately didn’t want to be, or worse, she might not wake up at all. He was saved from his dark thoughts when Elena jerked awake with a gasp.

“Elena!”

Struggling to sit up, her frantic eyes locked on his. “Damon . . .” she breathed.

*****

Elena bolted upright in bed, her heart banging against her ribcage and her breathing ragged. “What the hell?” she muttered as she tried to make sense of what she’d just seen. It had clearly been a flashback to the morning after Klaus had murdered her and her aunt, but she’d never known the exact details about what had taken place or what had been said before she’d woken up on that couch surrounded by three very concerned faces. She knew the vision was real—that Damon had brought her back to the house and broken the news about Jenna’s death to Jeremy and Alaric—because Ric had given her the CliffsNotes version after the fact, but how . . .?

Just as an idea began to assemble in her mind, she was interrupted by the obnoxious ringtone on her phone. Making a mental note to change the damn thing, she fumbled around on the nightstand until she found it and was surprised to see Ric’s name on the display. _Coincidence much?_

“Hey,” she greeted the only person she could stand to talk to right now. Anyone else would have been sent straight to voicemail.

“Hey, yourself. Did you just finish running a marathon or something?”

Realizing she was still panting, she took a moment to calm down. “Sorry. Bad dream.”

“You sure you’re okay?”

_Yes. No._ She found herself wanting to tell Alaric everything but settled for a lie instead. “Yeah, fine. It was nothing.”

In typical Ric fashion, he wasn’t buying it. “Doesn’t sound like nothing.”

Dragging a hand through her unruly hair, she didn’t know what to say. After waffling for a few minutes that felt like hours, she couldn’t keep it in any longer. _Fuck it._ “You’re right. It wasn’t nothing. This is going to seem crazy, but here goes. I think I’m seeing Damon’s memories, or he’s transferring them to me. I don’t know. The dreams I’ve had about him aren’t normal; it’s like I’m reliving actual times we’ve spent together. Until this last one, I didn’t make the connection, but it’s the only explanation that makes sense.”

Alaric was quiet for so long that she wondered if the call had been dropped. Checking the screen, she saw the line was still open. “Ric, you there?”

“Yeah. Sorry.” He sounded far away, as if he’d been deep in thought. “What was it about the most recent one that makes you think that?”

“I saw Damon carry me to the old witch house after Klaus had drained my blood for the sacrifice. He warned me not to come back as a vampire or he’d stake me himself. Then he told you and Jeremy about Jenna.” She spoke softly, reluctant to reopen old wounds.

A faint curse reached her ears. “Yeah, that’s accurate. Listen, I don’t think you’re crazy. Stefan dropped by last night. He said he’d dreamt of the day he was born, but it was like he was seeing it from Damon’s perspective. He stressed how real it felt. Jeremy, too. He had a dream about the night Sheriff Forbes shot him and Bonnie brought him back to life. What he described is exactly what went down. I was there.”

A tearing sound made Elena look down, and she realized she’d been pulling on the duvet so hard the fabric had given way. “Oh my God. What’s going on? Do you think they’re trying to communicate with us?” She was on the verge of hysterics, but she didn’t care.

“Hey, easy there. We don’t know anything for sure. Give me a few days to look into it and do some research.”

“No. No waiting. What if they’re trapped—”

“Whoa. Elena, stop. Listen to me for a second. Not that either of us need to be reminded, but Damon _died._ We buried his body. If by some remote chance he and Bonnie are still reachable, it’s going to take nothing short of a miracle to bring them back.” He paused as if something had just clicked into place. “But you’re already one step ahead, aren’t you? I heard a bizarre rumor the other day that Katherine Pierce is in Europe searching for a witch capable of bringing supernatural beings back from the dead. At the time, I thought it was just drunken rambling. What the _hell_ are you thinking?”

_Busted._ So much for using the little-known fact of Katherine’s demise to her advantage. “I can’t just sit around and do nothing, Ric.”

He sighed. “I get it, believe me, but do you understand the kind of risk you’re taking? If Damon were here, he’d flip right the fuck out.”

_Boy, would he ever._ “But he’s not, is he?” she said sadly. “I have to try. If this next lead doesn’t pan out, I’ll come home. Promise.”

She could practically hear him running a hand over his face in exasperation. “Fine, but keep me in the loop, will ya? This radio silence thing is driving me nuts.”

“Will do, but please don’t say anything about this to the others.” She wasn’t ready for any reunions just yet.

“Alright. Be careful, Elena.”

“I will. Bye, Ric.”

Hitting the “end” button, she pushed the ruined covers away and shuffled over to the window. She pulled back the curtain and squinted against the bright sunshine that spilled into the room. As she listened to the faint sound of jazz music in the distance, she hoped she’d come to the right place at last.

*****

Watching a pair of tipsy tourists stagger by her and duck into the nearest bar, Elena couldn’t decide which she wanted more—an entire bottle of whiskey all to herself, or a drink that was much warmer but just as intoxicating. She was in the process of scanning the crowd for a suitable snack when a hand landed on her ass and gave it an unapologetic squeeze.

“Hello there, beautiful,” came the slightly slurred greeting.

_That was easy._ Reminding herself that tearing the idiot’s throat out in public would be a bad idea, she slowly turned to face the man who’d taken liberties with her backside. The goofy grin coupled with the strong scent of beer on his breath put him firmly in the college years, Elena guessed. Giving him what she hoped was a sexy smile, she looped her arm through his and tugged him toward the nearest alley.

The throng of people made it difficult to navigate, but they finally reached their destination. Putting her hands on Romeo’s chest, she backed him up against the wall and leaned in close. Locking her eyes with his, she concentrated on bending his will to hers. “Don’t make a sound. When this is over, you’re going to forget everything that happened between us and go back to your friends.”

When he nodded mutely, she let her fangs elongate as she zeroed in on the vein pulsing on the side of his throat. Just as her teeth were about to sink deep into the guy’s neck, a hand gripped her shoulder and pulled her backward. Briefly disoriented, all she could do was blink as the person behind her sent her dinner date packing.

“You’re not going to remember meeting me or my friend here. You got lost in the crowd and ended up in this alley by mistake. Now go,” said the newcomer.

As the guy took off, she whirled around to confront whoever was responsible for the interruption. “What the hell did you do that for?”

The handsome man standing in front of her graced her with a friendly smile, his dazzling white teeth flashing in the darkness. “I’ll explain in a minute. It’s not safe here. C’mon.”

Before she could respond, he grasped her arm and darted off, giving her no choice but to follow. Zipping from block to block, he didn’t stop until they were down by the docks at the edge of the river. Releasing her, the man stepped back. “Sorry for getting in the way of your meal. That’s not usually my thing.” He gave her a quick onceover. “You must be new to town.” Extending a hand, he gifted her with another grin. “I’m Marcel, by the way.”

Elena studied him for a moment before cautiously clasping his hand. “I’m, uh . . .” _Lie, or tell the truth?_ Remembering she was on Klaus’s home turf, she decided the Katherine ruse would be a waste of time. “I’m Elena.”

“Elena? As in Elena Gilbert?” When she nodded, shocked that he’d heard of her, he continued. “Klaus mentioned you a time or two. Said you were the one whose blood was the key to turning him into a hybrid.”

She grimaced. “Yeah, that’s me. How do you know Klaus?”

He shrugged and looked off into the distance. “Long story. Here’s the condensed version: he sired me.”

“Recently?”

He laughed. “No, I’ve been around for a while. I take it he never told you about me during his stint in Mystic Falls?”

“Not exactly. He was usually too busy trying to kill me and my friends.”

“Yeah, that sounds like something Klaus would do.”

Elena smiled, and for the first time in a long time, it wasn’t forced. There was something about Marcel’s charming, laidback demeanor that put her at ease. “So, what was that all about earlier?”

His amusement faded. “Vampires aren’t welcome in the Quarter anymore. A pack of power-hungry werewolves have taken over, and they’re not shy about enforcing the rules.” His tone was laced with regret and more than a little sadness. “I’d recommend steering clear of that part of the city from now on.”

“Thanks for the warning. And the save.” She looked out over the slow-moving water and wondered what she was going to do now that the French Quarter was off-limits. She’d planned on checking out the numerous voodoo shops in the area in hopes of getting some information on the witch Elias had mentioned.

Marcel cleared his throat, drawing her attention back to the conversation. “So, what brings you to New Orleans?”

Elena didn’t answer right away. Could she trust Marcel, or would he betray her like Elias had? Figuring it couldn’t hurt to see what he knew, she glanced his way. “Funny you should ask . . .”

*****

Damon had never wanted to pace as badly as he did now. What he’d give for a tumbler of his favorite bourbon and the comfort of the fire that was almost always blazing in the boarding house’s oversized hearth. So many memories—both good and bad—were associated with that particular spot: hurling his glass at the fireplace and staring into the flames as the ramifications of killing Jeremy had sunk in; slow dancing with Elena before making love to her for the first time.

Getting the urge to break things in a place where there was nothing to be broken was really starting to wear on his nerves. He was torn between relief that he’d finally remembered a snippet of his conversation with Elena and aggravation that he still couldn’t recall the rest. Plus, if the visions he’d been having of Elena were real, and they certainly appeared to be, that meant she was in danger and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to stop it. Where the hell were Stefan and Ric?

His thoughts fuzzed out as a new scene flashed before his eyes. He got a glimpse of Elena wending her way through a horde of partiers, alcohol in abundance and clothes at a minimum. There was something familiar about the area, and as she walked past a street sign, he realized why. _Bourbon Street._ What was she doing in New Orleans? If she happened to cross paths with Klaus when he was in a homicidal mood . . .

Earlier, he’d been thinking about the aftermath of the bastard’s most nefarious plot, the one that had brought the soon-to-be Original Hybrid to Mystic Falls in the first place. _More like Original Pain in the Ass_ , Damon mused. When she was turned into a vampire, Klaus had claimed Elena’s blood was no longer of use to him, but what if that had changed? In a previous vision, he’d seen someone forcibly taking her blood. Did that have anything to do with her presence in the Crescent City?

The more Damon mulled it over, the more overwhelming his need to return to her became. The feeling of tranquility that had once surrounded him like a cocoon had completely vanished. There had to be a way—

_“Hey. I will make it back to you. I promise,” Damon said softly but resolutely. Elena stared at him for a moment before her lips met his in the most reverent kiss he’d ever experienced. He kissed her back with equal passion, wanting her to know that he meant what he’d said. “I promise you.”_


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Not my characters, obviously. Just playing in their world for a while.

_I know that you can’t hear me,_  
_But baby I need you to save me tonight_

As Elena walked along a darkened path lined with large, imposing tombs, she couldn’t help the shiver that slid down her spine. A light breeze ruffled her hair and made goose bumps erupt on her arms even though the night was warm. The deeper she went into the historic cemetery, the farther she felt from civilization. Eventually, the everyday noises of the outside world—car horns, people talking, dogs barking—faded away completely. It was like stepping back in time.

After wandering around for an hour and seeing nothing but a few leaves skittering across the ground, she started to wonder if she was in the right place. When she’d revealed to Marcel that she was looking for a witch to do a difficult spell for her, he’d told her that he knew of someone who might be willing to help. He’d assured Elena that the girl was more than capable of performing complex magic—in fact, she was the strongest witch he’d ever met. The kicker? She was young, a teenager who’d still be in high school if fate hadn’t intervened.

Elena’s thoughts had immediately turned to Bonnie. She’d gone from lighting candles and levitating feathers to amassing enough power to stop Klaus’s heart, not to mention bringing Jeremy back from the dead. _Twice._ As tears threatened to blur her vision, she remembered the carefree days when they’d joked about Bonnie being psychic and Elena had presented her with a half-empty beer bottle to use as a crystal ball. If only they’d known then what the future held. She truly hoped Marcel’s young friend didn’t end up going down a similar road.

On the verge of turning around and leaving because she’d apparently gone to the wrong cemetery despite Marcel’s detailed instructions, she stopped when a small light flared up in the distance. Moving closer, she realized it was the flame from a candle sitting next to a polished, ornately carved headstone in what appeared to be a newer section of the graveyard. She crouched down and read the inscription on the stone, a pang of grief resonating in her own heart at the life that had been cut tragically short, and recently, too.

The silence was broken by a soft feminine voice. “You must be Elena.”

Startled, she spun around to face the girl who’d seemingly materialized from out of nowhere. She was growing increasingly wary of people who knew who she was before she’d introduced herself, but as she looked closer at her—brown hair that hung in soft curls past her shoulders, a kind face, and eyes that held a deep sorrow belying her youth—Elena understood that this was the witch Marcel had sent her to meet.

“I am. Are you Davina?”

“Yes. Marcel told me you’d be here. It’s nice to meet you.” She grasped Elena’s hand briefly before moving to stand beside her in front of the resting place belonging to a teenage boy named Timothy. Neither one spoke for a while, both of them lost in their own thoughts. When Davina sniffled and pulled out a tissue, Elena touched her arm lightly in sympathy.

“Did you know him?”

“Yes. Tim was my best friend. I think—” she cleared her throat. “I think I was falling in love with him.”

Elena closed her eyes and fought against the sea of emotions that was always churning just below the surface. She counted to ten before opening them again. “I’m so sorry for your loss,” she said gently. “What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?”

It was as if a switch had been flipped. In the space of a few seconds, Davina’s sadness dried up and was replaced by an anger so fierce that the very air sizzled with it. “Klaus killed him.”

_Oh, God._ “I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I know what you’re going through.”

Davina’s tear-filled eyes met hers. “You do?”

_Shit. I can’t do this, I can’t do this, I can’t—_ “I lost my soul mate,” she whispered. She didn’t dare give any details for fear she’d start sobbing and never stop.

It was Davina’s turn to offer comfort. Giving Elena’s shoulder a squeeze, she asked, “When?”

_103 days, 2 hours . . ._ “This past spring.” She said it so quietly she wasn’t sure if the girl heard her.

Davina shook her head and fiddled with a button on her cardigan. “Forgive me. I don’t mean to pry, but it’s nice to talk to someone who understands.” She paused, staring at the candle that flickered every time the air stirred. “What was he like?”

“Protective. Stubborn. Intense. Loyal. Passionate. Selfless.” She coughed to hide the catch in her voice at that last one.

Unfortunately, Davina wasn’t done. “Wow, that’s quite the combination. Do you have a picture of him?”

Elena’s brain went into autopilot mode, and she reached into her back pocket, her movements almost robotic. Withdrawing a photograph that was worn around the edges and a bit crumpled, she handed it to Davina without saying anything.

Lifting her face to the sky, she focused on counting the stars in a constellation whose name she could no longer recall. She did her best to ignore the fact that Davina was studying one of the only pictures of Damon she had left, thanks to Katherine’s spiteful ways.

After a few moments, Davina returned the photo. “He was very handsome. I’m sorry he’s gone.”

_Was. Gone._ There were certain words Elena was beginning to really fucking hate. “Thanks,” she murmured, tucking the picture back in her pocket.

As if she sensed Elena wasn’t in the mood to discuss it further, Davina changed the subject. “So, Marcel said you were hoping I could do a spell for you. What do you need?”

Scuffing her shoe in the grass, Elena suddenly lost all desire to tell Davina what kind of spell she was interested in. The girl’s best friend/future love had just died, and Elena was about to ask her to resurrect her own lover _and_ her best friend, for Chrissake. “Um, actually, I changed my mind. Thanks anyway.” Giving her a small smile, she turned to go. “It was nice meeting you, Davina.”

“Elena, wait!” Catching up to her, Davina tugged on her arm until she came to a halt. “Let me help. Please.”

Sighing, Elena ran her hand over the smooth surface of the mausoleum closest to her, her fingers tracing the family name engraved in the stone. “Davina, what I was going to ask for isn’t fair to you.”

“Just tell me. I’ll decide for myself if it’s fair or not.”

_Dammit._ If she’d been smart, she’d have darted away before Davina could stop her. _Too late now._ Taking a deep breath, she let the words spill out in a rush. “I’ve been searching all summer for a witch powerful enough to bring Damon and my best friend Bonnie back from wherever they disappeared to when the Other Side fell apart. I met someone during my travels who told me a vampire had been recently resurrected in New Orleans. I came here hoping to find the person responsible so I could beg whoever it was to do the same for Damon and Bonnie.” She left out the part about thanking her informant, the treacherous Elias, by ripping his heart the rest of the way out of his chest.

Davina was silent for a minute. Wrapping her arms around herself, she gave Elena a look filled with regret. “Damon is the man in the photo?” When Elena nodded, her shoulders slumped and she gazed down at the worn path beneath their feet. “It’s true. I did it, but for all the wrong reasons. I was so angry; I still am. I wanted him to suffer, but I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

Surprised by Davina’s response, Elena struggled to make sense of what she’d just said. “Wait, what? Who did you want to suffer? Klaus?”

Brushing aside the questions with a wave of her hand, Davina continued. “It’s not important. All that matters is that I can’t do it again. It was a mistake.” She glanced up at Elena. “I’m so sorry. I know you want them back, but life’s not supposed to work that way. I dream about seeing Tim again every day, but it’s too much of a risk. I have to believe he’s in a better place. And if he’s found peace—if they _all_ have? I can’t take that away from them. I won’t.” Davina was crying now, tears sliding down her pale cheeks.

Her head buzzing like a swarm of insects had invaded her mind, Elena eventually processed what the young witch was saying. “I understand. Take care, Davina.” Her voice was hollow, lifeless, a perfect match to their dismal location. Before she even realized she was moving, she’d exited through the wrought iron gates and left the city of the dead behind. She could hear Davina calling her name, but she didn’t slow her pace.

It was over. After more than three months of hunting down every magic-user she could find, she had nothing to show for it. Damon and Bonnie were still gone. She’d failed them. She’d failed Stefan, Jeremy, Ric, Caroline, and Matt, too, even if they weren’t aware of it.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to tear apart a building brick by fucking brick. Maybe multiple buildings. _Hell, why not the whole city?_ She wanted to grab the first person she came across and feed until not even a drop of blood remained. Then she’d toss him or her aside and start on the next unlucky soul.

She was so absorbed in her destructive thoughts that she nearly plowed into the petite woman who suddenly appeared in front of her. With her short, dark hair and delicate features, she reminded Elena of a pixie or a sprite from some childhood fairytale. The stranger smiled, evidently unfazed by the murderous expression on Elena’s face.

“Poor thing. Looks like you’ve had a rough night. Perhaps I can help?”

*****

He’d broken his promise. The realization both infuriated and saddened him beyond belief. Throughout his life, he’d always prided himself on his ability to be true to his word, especially where _she_ was concerned.

As if on cue, Elena’s grief slammed into Damon with the force of a tidal wave. Just as quickly, it morphed into red-hot anger that fueled his own. The vision that accompanied the emotional outburst was brief—he got a glimpse of Elena storming out of a cemetery and nearly mowing down some woman he didn’t recognize in her haste to get away. What he could see of the surrounding landscape told him she was still in New Orleans, but why? And what had made her so upset?

The scene faded before he could gather any other information, and he was left with nothing but the monotonous emptiness that he’d once found comforting and serene. No longer.

God, what he’d give to hold Elena in his arms again, to kiss away every painful memory and every measure of heartbreak. If only—

_Wait a minute._

If he was able to see—and feel—what Elena was experiencing, maybe the connection worked both ways. Using every ounce of his concentration, he focused on reaching out to her and imagining what she might be doing at this point in time. Was she still walking the streets, or had she returned to her hotel room for the night . . .?

*****

The breeze coming in the open door made the sheer curtains billow out toward the enormous bed, in the middle of which a brown-haired beauty was sleeping peacefully, the sheets tangled around her slim body. Whenever the curtains shifted, slivers of moonlight created patterns on the hardwood floor and disheveled bedding. The air was heavy with the scent of the woods behind the house and Damon breathed in deeply, savoring the earthy aroma that reminded him so much of his childhood. The good parts anyway.

Padding over to the side of the bed, Damon watched as Elena murmured in her sleep and reached toward the pillow next to hers. His, of course. Her fingers curled around it and she pulled it to her, holding it tightly the way a child clings to a beloved stuffed animal. Damon smiled as he gently extricated it from her grasp and tossed it aside. When Elena frowned and her hand began to roam once more, seeking what she’d lost, Damon caught her questing fingers in his and brought them to his lips for a tender kiss.

Elena’s eyes snapped open at the contact, and she let out a gasp. “Damon?”

Crawling up on the mattress, Damon stretched out beside her. When she continued to stare at him with wide eyes, he cupped her cheek, running his thumb back and forth over her smooth skin. “I’m here, baby.”

“How? What—”

Damon closed the remaining distance between them and covered her mouth with his. The kiss was unhurried, as if he were experiencing this with her for the first time. “Shh. Don’t think, just feel.”

Elena made a soft sound in the back of her throat somewhere between a sigh and a hiccup. When Damon felt wetness on his cheek and tasted salt on Elena’s lips, he knew she was crying. Pulling back, he wiped her tears away before gathering her against his chest. He tucked her head beneath his chin while he stroked her back soothingly. Leaning down, he whispered into her hair. “I never wanted to leave you, Elena. Believe me.”

They stayed locked in the embrace, neither one moving. Finally, Damon felt the tension drain out of Elena’s taut muscles and knew she had exhausted her grief for the time being. Shifting their positions, he moved so that he was straddling her lithe form, his arms braced on either side of her shoulders. Her chocolate brown eyes gazed up at him with a mixture of anticipation and disbelief. Lifting her hand, she ran it slowly up his arm to his shoulder and neck before smoothing it over the side of his face. She carefully brushed a stray piece of hair from his forehead, each action tentative as if she feared he’d disappear at any moment.

As much as Damon cherished the feel of her hands exploring his body, he wanted this to be about her. _For_ her. Reaching between them, he yanked the sheet out of the way until Elena was bared to him. Lowering his head, he pressed a kiss to her throat and traced the outline of her collarbone. She shivered as he continued on his path, his warm breath teasing the tops of her breasts. Taking a nipple in his mouth, he sucked and nibbled until she arched upward, seeking more of his delicious attentions. Her fingers tunneled into his hair, her nails lightly scratching his scalp. Whenever he encountered a particularly pleasurable spot, she’d tighten her grip and tug on the dark strands.

Moving downward, he dipped his tongue into her navel, earning him a surprised gasp. Trailing more kisses over her lower abdomen, he eased her legs apart and settled between them. As his mouth drifted lazily over the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, he glanced up to find Elena watching him with hooded eyes. Keeping her in his sights, he parted her silky folds and slowly inserted one long finger inside of her. A low moan escaped her as her hips began to undulate in time with his ministrations. Adding a second finger, he pumped them into her with a steady rhythm until her eyes slid closed and her head thrashed against the pillow. Her voice was little more than a thready rasp. “Damon, _please_.”

“Elena.” Lost in the sensations he was creating, she didn’t react. “Sweetheart, look at me.” When her lids cracked open a fraction, he used his tongue to tease the throbbing bundle of nerves at the top of her sex. Her hips bucked wildly, but he placed a hand on top of her flat belly to keep her still. Knowing Elena was on the verge of release, Damon let his fangs descend. Careful not to nick her with the incredibly sharp tips, he dragged the smooth edge of one over her clit before giving it a gentle nip.

Elena’s scream as her orgasm ripped through her was music to his ears. He eased her down from her peak with soft strokes and tender caresses. Working his way back up her trembling body, his lips met hers and he kissed her with all the passion he possessed.

Reluctantly pulling away, he pressed another kiss to her brow. Wishing they could stay like this forever, he murmured the words that filled his mind and resonated throughout every inch of his heart and soul. “I will never stop loving you, Elena. _Ever._ Nothing can change that. Not even death.”

Studying her beautiful features, he committed everything to memory once more. He hated the idea of leaving her, but he knew he didn’t have much choice. Closing his eyes against the inevitable, he forced himself to depart from the dream world he’d created and return to his bleak reality.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Not my characters, obviously. Just playing in their world for a while.

_Told me not to cry when you were gone_   
_But the feeling’s overwhelming, it’s much too strong_

Elena stared down at the duvet spread across her lap, her fingers absently tracing the haphazard pattern of polka dots on the material. She frowned as she realized that the circles weren’t perfectly round. Actually, all of them were oddly shaped, like something had dripped—

_Oh, right._ Not polka dots. Teardrops.

She didn’t bother wiping her eyes. What would be the point? Even though she’d been awake for three hours, the dream was on a constant loop, the scenes playing over and over again in her head. She could usually keep it together until Damon’s parting line echoed through her mind: _I will never stop loving you, Elena._ Ever. _Nothing can change that. Not even death._

This had been different from the memories she’d seen before. It was as if Damon had created the dream as a way to be with her. To touch her. To comfort her. He’d certainly done all of those things and then some; her body was still tingling in the many places where his hands, and mouth, had given her pleasure.

Unlike dreams she’d had in the past where she’d either woken up in the middle of one or been startled awake by one that was particularly frightening or intense, this had felt more controlled. After Damon had kissed her one last time and closed his eyes, she’d been on the verge of begging him to stay when everything had come to an abrupt halt. It was like her mental television had been unplugged—one minute she’d been experiencing it all live and in high definition; the next, the screen had gone blank, leaving her in some kind of weird limbo between sleep and consciousness.

It reminded her of a vampire’s ability to manipulate dreams, although that could only happen if you were physically close to the vampire pulling the strings. She shook her head sadly. _Definitely not the case here._

In an effort to gather her composure, she forced herself to focus on the positive: any lingering doubts she’d had about whether Damon was trying to reach out to her were gone. This was the proof she’d been yearning for.

Plus, things were looking up in the witch department. Even though it hadn’t worked out with Davina, all hope was not lost. The mysterious woman she’d met on the street last night had revealed herself to be a witch, and she’d claimed—despite appearing better suited to play one of Santa’s elves at the local mall during the holiday season—to be fully capable of bringing a vampire and a witch, or any supernatural creature for that matter, back from the dead. All she’d asked for was Elena’s help in collecting the necessary ingredients.

Unlike her previous witchy encounters, there was something about this woman that made Elena trust in her powers. She truly believed the witch’s assurance that she would return Damon and Bonnie to this world.

Armed with a new sense of purpose, Elena tossed aside the covers and headed to the bathroom for a shower.

This was going to work. It _had_ to.

*****

_“Hey, you’ve reached Alaric. Leave a message, and I’ll get back to you.”_ Surprised that he hadn’t answered, Elena ended the call and slid her phone into her purse. “What the hell, Ric? Where are you?”

Deciding she’d give it a few minutes and then try him again, Elena continued walking along the path that ran parallel to the river. The morning sunlight was warm on her skin, the already humid air making her tank top and shorts stick to her body. Gazing around, she took a moment to appreciate her surroundings: the beautiful blue of the cloudless sky, the enticing aroma of coffee emanating from a nearby café, the sound of the horn being blown on the majestic steamboat making its way up the Mississippi. It was funny how you viewed things differently when you had hope, Elena mused.

She was just about to duck into the café with the delicious-smelling coffee when she heard someone call her name. There was no mistaking the ambiguously accented voice belonging to the always-dapper vampire that she sensed was standing only a few feet behind her. Letting go of the door handle with a resigned sigh, she turned to face the man she’d both feared and trusted in the years since she’d known him. _Look at the bright side. At least it’s not his unpredictable, murderous, younger brother._

Sure enough, the sight that greeted her was classic Elijah: elegant, gray three-piece suit, black silk tie, white dress shirt, expensive loafers that were probably Italian leather, and not a well-groomed hair out of place. Feeling woefully underdressed and not unlike a child who’d been caught with her hand in the proverbial cookie jar, she smiled awkwardly and stuffed her hands in her pockets. “Elijah. Hi.”

Quirking an eyebrow, he stepped forward and offered her his arm. Nodding his head in the direction of the park across the street, he gave her a friendly smile in return. “Shall we?”

_Ever the gentleman._ Giving the coffee shop one last longing look, she placed her hand in the crook of his arm and let him lead the way. As soon as they reached their destination, she was grateful he had suggested it. The shade from the trees overhead provided a welcome alternative to standing on the sidewalk and baking in the sun.

Releasing his arm, she stepped back and waited for him to say something. When he turned to leave, she frowned. “Where are you—”

Elijah held up a hand. “I’ll only be a moment. Wait here.”

He crossed the street with long strides and disappeared inside the shop she’d been ogling. When he reappeared a few minutes later holding a cup of coffee with one of those tan sleeve things on it, she couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of her. She was still giggling when he placed the insulated cup in her outstretched hands.

“Your café au lait, milady. I didn’t want to risk depriving you of what you so clearly desire.”

“Thank you, kind sir.” Taking a small sip of the piping-hot beverage, she closed her eyes in bliss. When she opened them again, Elijah was trying but failing to hide his grin. “That obvious, huh?”

“Let’s put it this way—if you’d had a stake at your disposal, the look on your face earlier suggested I’d be an unsightly shade of gray by now,” he chuckled.

“Wow. That’s pretty serious.” She took another sip as they started down the path that led through the center of the park. They walked in companionable silence for a while until Elijah spotted a wooden bench and motioned for her to join him.

Once they were seated, he cleared his throat. “So, Elena, Marcel tells me you’re in town for a very particular reason, but he said you didn’t give him all the details. Care to fill in the blanks for me?”

_No, not really._ All the humor instantly drained out of her. “It’s complicated.” She felt Elijah’s eyes on her, but she didn’t say anything else. Instead, she drank more of her coffee and watched two lovers stroll by hand in hand, the woman blushing as the man pulled her close and whispered something in her ear.

“Indeed.” He paused as if he were choosing his next words carefully. “I suspect recent events in Mystic Falls are at least partly, if not fully, responsible for your presence here, so please allow me to offer my most sincere condolences on the loss of Damon and Bonnie.” His hand settled on hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. “It’s never easy to part with those we hold most dear.”

Elena’s head whipped around, shock written on her features. “You know,” she whispered. “Does Klaus?”

He nodded. “Apparently my brother received a call from a very distraught Caroline shortly after everything happened. She pleaded with him to help her find a way to fix the situation, but unfortunately, Niklaus was—and is—in a rather volatile state of mind.” He was quiet for a moment as he smoothed a nonexistent wrinkle on his pristine suit. “If I had to guess, I’d imagine you’re hoping to accomplish what your friend could not, minus the part about requesting my brother’s assistance. Am I right?”

Elijah spoke softly, but Elena picked up on the subtle warning underlying his words. Straightening her spine, she gathered her resolve. “I have to try.”

Now it was Elijah’s turn to sigh. “So that’s the purpose of the witch, then. I trust you realize what a dangerous undertaking this is. The very fabric of our world could be torn apart.”

_My world is already torn apart._ Elena opened her mouth to respond, but a buzzing sound coming from her purse caught her attention. Pulling her phone out, she saw Alaric’s name on the display. _Fantastic timing, Ric._

Giving Elijah an apologetic look, she quickly stood. “I’m sorry, but I have to take this. Thanks for the much-needed caffeine fix.”

She turned to go, but of course, Elijah was right there in front of her, blocking the way. “Elena, wait. I understand that you’d do anything for the people you love, but promise me that you’ll be careful and think twice about the possible repercussions of such a spell.”

His solemn expression didn’t leave any room for argument, and she didn’t have the time or the energy to do so even if she’d wanted to. “I will. Promise.” She gave him a little wave before hurrying off to find a spot where she could talk to Alaric without any overly concerned Original vampires listening in on their conversation.

*****

A few blocks over, Elena came upon a group of street musicians in full swing. _Perfect._ Situating herself close enough to keep her call private yet far enough away so that she could still hear Ric, she redialed his number and hoped she’d catch him this time. Thankfully, he picked up on the first ring.

“Ric! Where were you earlier?”

“There was a bit of a . . . situation . . . with Jeremy. He thinks he’s Rambo now or something—”

“What!?”

“He’s fine. Don’t worry. Just some cuts and bruises. You know, typical Jer stuff.”

Except she didn’t know what her brother had been up to lately or how he’d been dealing with Bonnie’s death, and frankly, she hadn’t really cared until now. Alaric’s words made her recognize just how out of touch she’d been. With her emotions alternating between _fuck everything_ and _find-a-way-to-save-Damon-and-Bonnie-even-if-it-kills-me_ , she hadn’t paid much—okay, _any_ —attention to her remaining friends and family. It appeared the glimmer of hope she’d been given was enough to bring those feelings rushing back to the surface.

“Elena? You there?”

“Sorry. I was just thinking. He’s okay though?”

“Physically, sure. Mentally? Emotionally? Not so much, but I’m keeping a close eye on him. So, listen—wait, why the hell does it sound like you’re at Jazz Fest?”

She laughed softly. “I’ll tell you in a minute. You were saying?”

“I’ve been doing some digging to see if I can find anything that backs up our theory about Bonnie and Damon somehow being able to reach—”

“It’s not a theory anymore, Ric,” Elena interrupted. “I saw Damon last night.” When Alaric started coughing like he’d choked on whatever he’d been drinking, she swiftly clarified. “It was in a dream, which seems ridiculous, I know, but the things he said. . . . It was real.” Heat rose in her cheeks as she also remembered the things he’d _done_ , but she definitely wasn’t filling Alaric in on that bit.

“I believe it,” he said, his voice rough. “I even found some stuff dating back as far as the seventeenth century. Apparently, if the connection between two supernatural beings is strong enough, they can sometimes find a way to transcend normal boundaries, even in death. Granted, the Other Side still existed back then, so it may have actually been ghost hijinks, but at least it’s not unheard of.”

“Good to know. Jeremy’s former Hunter status must be the reason Bonnie can contact him.”

“That’s what I’m guessing. So what’s the deal with the music? Where are you?”

“I think I’ve finally found a witch who can do the spell, but I need a huge favor.” Elena’s excitement was palpable. “She needs some blood from both Stefan and Jeremy. Mine, too. Come up with whatever explanation you have to in order to get it from them, but you can’t tell them the truth. Not yet, anyway. I mean it, Ric.”

“Oookay.” He sounded skeptical, but to his credit, he didn’t refuse or try to talk her out of it. “Any other questions-slash-demands while you’re at it?”

“Just one. How quickly can you get to New Orleans?”

*****

The feeling of being with Elena again, even if it had only been in a temporary dream world of his own creation, had both soothed Damon’s soul and inflamed his desire for her. He wanted _more_.

Just as he was contemplating how long he should wait before attempting his next tête-à-tête, his thoughts were sidelined by another vision. Images flooded his mind—scenes of Elena crying in bed, chatting with Elijah— _Elijah!?_ —in a park, talking on the phone with someone while a nearby jazz band gave a rousing performance.

The latter scene lasted long enough for him to catch a snippet of the conversation: _It’s not a theory anymore, Ric. I saw Damon last night. It was in a dream, which seems ridiculous, I know, but the things he said. . . . It was real._

_Holy. Shit._ It had really worked. And the way she was blushing? Definitely told him she could recall everything that had happened between them.

He was so distracted by picturing the various scenarios he could construct for the two of them that he nearly missed what Elena said next. It was broken up like a radio station with a weak signal, but he picked up on part of it: _witch . . . spell . . . blood . . . Stefan . . . Jeremy . . . mine._

_What the fuck?_ Damon instantly remembered the previous visions he’d had of Elena where she’d been attacked by a witch and sliced open by some chanting, knife-wielding psychopath. What the hell was she trying to accomplish with all of this? If she didn’t knock it off, she was going to get herself, and possibly both of their brothers, killed . . .

The questions racing around in his brain skidded to a halt as the pieces slowly clicked into place. If Elena was interested in a spell that required her blood as well as Stefan’s and Jeremy’s, that could only mean one thing.

She was trying to bring him and Bonnie back.

Caught somewhere between fear for the safety of the people he cared about most, relief that he and Bonnie might be able to escape their barren prison, and more than a little anger toward Elena for risking everything on multiple occasions to try and make it happen, he sent out a mental plea to the woman he loved more than life itself.

_Elena, please be careful. If anything happens to you because of this spell, I’ll never forgive myself._


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Not my characters, obviously. Just playing in their world for a while.
> 
> Happy New Year, everyone! Here's the next installment.

_Faster the days go by and I'm still_   
_Stuck in this moment of wanting you here_

As Elena waited impatiently for Alaric’s plane to land, she thumbed mindlessly through the latest issue of _Cosmopolitan._ Flipping past pages and pages of assorted sex positions, relationship quizzes, and makeup tips, she smiled wistfully remembering the way her, Bonnie, and Caroline had always hidden the coveted magazine under their beds and pulled it out to giggle over during sleepovers.

When a voice came over the intercom and announced the arrival of Ric’s flight, she closed _Cosmo_ and tossed it in her purse. Making her way toward the baggage claim area, she was grateful he’d gotten here so quickly. After hanging up with her yesterday, he’d booked the first available flight to New Orleans.

According to the witch—Kira, she’d said her name was—tonight would be the best time to perform the spell. It was a full moon, and she was going to draw on it to give her already substantial powers a boost.

Turning another corner in the maze-like airport, Elena reached her destination at the same moment Alaric did. Running over to him, she flung her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. “I’m so glad you’re here, Ric.”

“Me, too. I’m glad you’re still in one piece.” He squeezed her in return, and she gasped when she felt a few of the vertebrae in her back pop.

“Whoa, easy there. Not that I don’t appreciate the chiropractic treatment, but pretty soon, it’s going to interfere with the still-in-one-piece thing,” she laughed.

“Oh, sorry.” He loosened his hold before pressing a kiss to her cheek and stepping back. “I still haven’t adjusted to the super strength part, or any of the parts, actually.”

“No worries. I may not be an Original, but I’m still durable.” Dropping her voice to a whisper, she gestured to the duffel bag hanging off his shoulder. “Were you able to get the blood?”

He patted the front of his jacket. “Right here, safe and sound.”

“Let me guess—you compelled your way through security?”

“You know it,” Alaric chuckled.

“So what did you tell Stefan and Jeremy?”

He grimaced. “That part wasn’t so easy, at least not with Stefan. Jer’s no stranger to blood loss lately, so I was able to convince him that I needed a sample so I could have it tested at the hospital to make sure he’s still healing properly.”

Elena started to walk toward the exit. “And Stefan?”

Shrugging, Alaric fell into step beside her. “I told him I’d found a witch who was going to try to remove the anti-magic spell around Mystic Falls. I explained that she would need some of his blood and some of yours since that’s what the Travelers used when they cast it. He was buying it until I refused to tell him where I was going. I tried to brush it off by saying I had to find you first.”

“Do you think he’ll figure it out?”

“I don’t know. You said Elijah and Klaus’s buddy Marcel know you’re here, not to mention Marcel’s witch friend. If Elijah happens to contact Stefan, or Stefan calls Klaus, we may very well have company.”

“Great.” Elena wasn’t looking forward to seeing Stefan again, especially after the way she’d treated him since everything had taken place. She owed him an apology, possibly several of them. “Hopefully, if he does show up, it’ll already be over and Damon and Bonnie will be with us. Otherwise . . .” she trailed off, not in the mood to contemplate the many ways it could all go wrong.

“Yeah, hopefully.” There was a hint of doubt in Ric’s voice, but she ignored it.

“C’mon. You can drop off your stuff at the hotel, and then we’ll grab dinner before it’s time to meet up with Kira.”

*****

Just before midnight, Elena once again found herself in one of New Orleans’s renowned cemeteries. The night was unnaturally still, the sky free of clouds. The moon was enormous, bathing everything in an ethereal glow. Despite the ample light source, candles were scattered over every available surface—mausoleum steps, the tops of gravestones, along the edge of the path leading to the spot Kira had chosen for the spell.

While the witch busied herself by arranging all of the ingredients beside two large earthen bowls, Elena glanced over at Alaric. He looked as anxious as she felt, pacing back and forth and continually scanning their surroundings to make sure no surprise visitors showed up. Elena herself couldn’t stop fidgeting—she tugged at a loose thread hanging off the bottom of her jacket, tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, and brushed some grass off her boots.

Damon’s warning from yesterday kept replaying in her mind: _Elena, please be careful. If anything happens to you because of this spell, I’ll never forgive myself._

After she’d ended the call with Ric, she’d been en route to her hotel when she’d heard Damon’s voice just as clearly as if he’d been speaking directly into her ear. It wasn’t just his words; she could sense that he was worried and even upset with her. Their connection seemed to be growing stronger since he was obviously aware of what she was planning. Exactly _how_ he knew was anybody’s guess.

She hadn’t told Alaric about Damon’s message, mostly because she figured his former drinking buddy already shared his sentiments. As if on cue, she noticed Ric walking in her direction.

“Hey,” he said as he moved to stand beside her while he watched Kira grind up some herbs with a mortar and pestle. “You okay?”

Elena shifted her feet, feeling like she’d been rooted to one spot for too long. “Honestly, I don’t know. Ask me when it’s over.”

Ric cleared his throat and stared up at the sky. “I’m not trying to be a downer, but you understand there’s a chance this might not—”

“I know,” she cut him off, “but I can’t think like that.”

“Believe me, I get it,” he said quietly. “I miss him like hell, and I want him and Bonnie back just as much as you do, Elena. I just don’t want you to get hurt in the process.”

She smiled tightly and wrapped her arms around herself. “Thanks for coming with me.”

He laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Like I’d let you do this alone? Damon would kill me.”

Their conversation was brought to a halt when Kira appeared in front of them. Her eyes were wide and childlike, but Elena sensed the woman was harboring an old soul beneath her youthful features. “The preparations are complete. Are we ready to begin?”

Nodding nervously, Elena gripped Alaric’s hand and followed the witch back to the area where she’d set up the spell. They stopped a few feet outside of the pentagram Kira had assembled on the ground using salt. Carefully kneeling in the center, the woman turned her attention to Elena.

“Do you have the items I requested?”

Reaching into her purse, Elena withdrew three vials of blood—the two Ric had brought with him and one of her own. She was done letting witches cut into her, thank you very much. Handing them to Kira, she stepped back.

“Perfect. And the personal effects?” Her soft, lilting voice would have been soothing under different circumstances.

In addition to the blood, Kira needed an object that belonged to Bonnie and something of Damon’s. At first, Elena thought she’d have to enlist Ric’s help in gathering those as well, but as it turned out, she’d been a step ahead without even realizing it.

Pushing back her sleeve, she slowly pulled the silver bangle bracelet off her wrist and passed it to Kira. Bonnie had loaned it to her before one of the parties they’d attended at Whitmore, but Elena hadn’t had a chance to return it. She’d been wearing it all summer in memory of the best friend she’d lost.

Deciding which of Damon’s things to part with had posed a challenge. His daylight ring was the only jewelry he’d worn, and she definitely wasn’t giving that away. All of his clothes were off-limits at the boarding house thanks to the Travelers’ magic-free zone, and Alaric asking Jeremy to go get one of Damon’s shirts probably would’ve made her brother suspicious.

She dug through her purse once more until her fingers made contact with a jagged, metallic edge. She’d forgotten it was in there, and now she was glad she had it even if the knowledge that it was about to be destroyed made her slightly ill. Removing her hand from her bag, she took one last look at the spare key to Damon’s beloved Camaro before dropping it reluctantly into Kira’s outstretched palm.

Next to her, she heard Alaric suck in a breath. “Is that what I think it is?”

She nodded, no longer trusting her ability to speak.

The heavy silence was broken by the sound of a nearby church bell announcing the arrival of the midnight hour. Placing the bracelet in one bowl and the key in the other, Kira added the remaining ingredients, with the exception of the blood, until the air was filled with the scent of sage and a variety of other herbs Elena didn’t recognize.

Closing her eyes, Kira whispered, “It’s time.” She began to chant quietly, and Elena noticed she was speaking in the same language Bonnie and her Grams had used when doing magic. _At least she’s not a Traveler in disguise._

As the witch’s voice grew steadily louder, the candles flared brighter, making Elena jump. The wind picked up, sending leaves and petals from graveside flower arrangements scattering across the ground. Continuing her chant, Kira held Jeremy’s vial over the bowl with Bonnie’s bracelet in it. Pouring out half the contents, she resealed it and quickly tucked it in her pocket. She repeated the action with Stefan and Elena’s vials, this time over Damon’s bowl, again using only half of the blood and stowing the rest away.

Elena watched Kira closely, puzzled as to why she hadn’t used all of it. Wouldn’t that make the spell more effective? She was on the verge of asking for an explanation when a blinding light suddenly filled the space inside the pentagram, engulfing the woman and making Elena and Alaric step back and shield their eyes. It lasted for a few seconds before fading completely. In its wake, Elena noticed thin curls of smoke rising up from the two bowls, their contents reduced to ash. Kira emptied the bowls in the middle of the circle, and Elena stared in wonder as the ashes were absorbed into the earth.

Rising to her feet, Kira dusted off her pants and began returning the herb jars to her bag. Her intense gaze landed on Elena. “It is done.”

“Done? If it’s done, where the hell are they?” Turning in a circle, Elena looked about anxiously, searching for any sign of Damon and Bonnie. Finding nothing, she sped through the entire cemetery, checking behind every crypt and monument. Still nothing.

Racing back to the site of the spell, Elena saw that the woman had dismantled the pentagram, the circle broken and salt scattered over the grass. Kira was packing up the rest of her things when Alaric moved toward her with a murderous expression on his face. “It didn’t work. What the fuck did you do?”

The witch ignored him while she zipped up her bag and hoisted it over her shoulder. When she turned to leave without a word, Ric grabbed her by the throat and pushed her roughly against the cracked wall of an old mausoleum. “I suggest you answer me. Where. Are. They.”

“Ric!” Elena frantically pulled on his arm, but he didn’t loosen his grip. “Stop! Maybe she can try again.”

Smiling as if having a vampire crushing her windpipe didn’t bother her in the slightest, Kira laid a hand on Alaric’s wrist. Gasping in pain, he released her and dropped to his knees.

“Kira, no!” Elena approached the woman cautiously, as one would a feral animal. “I trusted you. You said you’d help me!” Tears threatened to fall, but she scrubbed her eyes to keep them at bay.

“I did,” said the witch, all traces of humor gone from her face, “and you have given me a very valuable gift in return.”

Elena tried but failed to make sense of what she was saying. “What? I don’t understand.”

“You will.” Kira glanced down at Alaric as he writhed in agony. “It’s nice to see that my hunter has been given a second chance at life.” Lowering her hand, she ended the torment. As he slowly stood, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a fistful of something. Before either Ric or Elena could react, she uncurled her fingers and blew the crushed herbs she’d been holding into their faces.

Dizziness overcame Elena, and she slumped to the ground. She struggled to stay conscious, but it was no use. As darkness claimed her, her last thought was of the man she loved. _Damon, please come back to me._

*****

The light was fading. Damon didn’t know what was going on, but it appeared someone had finally gotten the memo about him and was preparing to send him where he really belonged. _I’m on the highway to hell . . ._

Or maybe not. He wasn’t the only one affected by the change. Bonnie was in full-on panic mode. She was afraid they were about to be sucked into the same oblivion that had taken Katherine.

Damon was mulling over that depressing possibility when he felt a tug, like he was being pulled from behind by an invisible force. It was subtle at first, but it grew steadily stronger until he found himself wishing there was something to hold onto. _Not good._

Just then, the universe decided it would be fun to fuck with him some more—no vision this time, only Elena’s voice in his mind begging him, in an eerily familiar way, to return to her. _I want to, sweetheart, more than anything._

Noticing that the light was nearly gone now, Damon was resigning himself to the inevitable when he thought of one last thing he needed to share with Elena before he lost the opportunity to do so. He didn’t want to say goodbye to her again, but he could show her what she hadn’t been able to see that night in the Salvatore crypt.

When the darkness descended, followed by a particularly vicious yank, Damon focused on the memory of his parting words to Elena and prayed she’d hear them . . .

_“You lied to me,” Elena sobbed._

_Damon stepped forward and brushed her hair back, surprising her with his unseen touch. “Even if I wanted to apologize, you couldn’t hear me, so I won’t.”_

_“Please don’t leave me.”_

_“I don’t have a choice, baby. You are by far the greatest thing that ever happened to me in my hundred and seventy-three years on this earth. The fact that I get to die knowing that I was loved, not just by anyone, by you, Elena Gilbert, is the epitome of a fulfilled life.”_

_As Elena sank to the floor under the weight of her grief, he hated that he was causing her such pain; hated that he couldn’t offer her comfort._

_He crouched down in front of her even though she couldn’t see him. “It’s never gonna get any better than this. I peaked.” Damon tenderly stroked her cheek and jaw, his hand trailing down to her wrist where it was tucked beneath her chin. “I love you, Elena.”_

_“Please. Please come back to me,” she pleaded._

_“Bye . . .”_


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Not my characters, obviously. Just playing in their world for a while.

_When you said your last goodbye_   
_I died a little bit inside_

Her mind was fuzzy, and her body felt like it was trapped in a vat of quicksand. Every time she fought to break free of the darkness, it would drag her under once again. A voice finally penetrated her hazy brain, but it sounded impossibly far away.

“Elena. Elena, wake up! You’re scaring the shit out of me.”

Someone was shaking her, and it was making her head swim. She raised a hand to bat at whoever was bothering her, but she only succeeded in lifting it a few inches before what little strength she had abandoned her and it flopped back down to rest on her stomach. When she tried to speak, her throat ached like she’d swallowed a handful of nails. Sideways.

“Lemme be,” she croaked.

“Oh, thank God. I thought she’d put you in some kind of vampire coma.”

Prying open her heavy lids, she struggled to focus on the person hovering beside her. When her sight cleared, she found herself looking up at the very concerned face of her former guardian. “Ric?”

He let out his breath on a long exhale before giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “I’m here.”

“What happened?” Her gaze wandered around the unfamiliar room with its hideously patterned floral curtains and faux-Monet paintings hanging on the wall. She was situated on top of a plain beige coverlet in a bed that seemed to have a mattress made out of plywood. “Where are we?”

“A hotel in Richmond.” He paused as if waiting for her reaction. “How much do you remember about last night?”

_Richmond?_ “We were in the graveyard with Kira. She performed the spell, and you attacked her afterward. I tried to stop you, but then she did that witchy aneurysm thing—”

“Before blowing vampire knockout herbs in our faces,” he finished for her. “Well, at least she didn’t mess with your memories.”

Elena coughed in an effort to clear her throat. A million questions swirled through her head, and she tossed them out at random. “Why are we in Virginia? How long was I asleep? Where’s Kira? Why the hell do I sound like my vocal cords have been replaced with sandpaper?”

“Whoa, slow down. One at a time.” He checked his watch. “You’ve been out for the better part of sixteen hours. I woke up shortly after that bitch hit us with her evil pixie dust; my Original vamp status must have been the reason I was able to shake it off so quickly. You were lying unconscious on the ground next to me, and ‘Kira’”—he used air quotes when saying her name—“was nowhere to be found.”

Elena imitated the gesture he’d made. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Scrubbing a hand over his unshaven face, Alaric sighed. “That wasn’t some random witch, Elena. Did you hear what she said to me? She called me her ‘hunter.’” He looked at her with a weary expression. “I don’t know how it’s possible, but I’m pretty sure that was Esther Mikaelson.”

Elena’s eyes widened in shock. “But she’s dead. You killed her,” she rasped.

“I was dead, too, but here I am.” He shrugged. “Stranger things have happened. Plus, she chose a name with a prominent ‘k’ in it. Fits nicely with the family tradition, don’t you think?”

“Good point. She said I’d given her a gift. What could that be—” Elena stopped mid-sentence as the pieces began to come together. “Shit! The blood. That’s what she was talking about. She kept half of each vial of blood I gave her.” She glanced at Ric. “What do you think she’s going to do with it?”

“I wasn’t in the mood to stick around and find out. That’s why I got you the hell out of there before she decided she needed any other gifts.”

Coughing again, Elena winced and dragged herself over to the edge of the bed. “Do we have any water?”

“Yeah, hang on. If you try to get it, I’ll be picking you up off the floor.” He disappeared into the bathroom and came back a few seconds later holding a small paper cup. “Sorry. I was in a hurry, so this place isn’t exactly the Ritz.”

“Thanks.” She took the cup and drank slowly, letting the cool water soothe her throat.

Alaric held out his hand when she was finished. “More?”

“Please.”

After she’d drained the second cup and tossed it in the garbage bucket beneath the bedside table, she turned her attention back to Ric. “So, what did I do, sing an entire opera in my sleep?” When he remained quiet and dropped his head to stare at the carpet, she pulled herself into a sitting position. “What is it? Tell me.”

“Elena . . .” he hesitated before finally meeting her worried gaze. “You weren’t singing. You were screaming.”

“What?” she whispered.

“For Damon.”

Like a dam breaking in her mind, the memory spilled forth and flooded her senses, just as powerful now as it had been the first time she’d seen it: Damon explaining how loving her and being loved by her in return had been the high point of his life, and reaching out to touch her while she cried her heart out and begged him to stay. _It’s never gonna get any better than this. . . . I love you, Elena._

As tears filled her eyes and rolled down her cheeks in warm rivulets, she understood that this had been his way of saying goodbye. The spell hadn’t worked; he knew he wasn’t going to make it back, so he’d shared his final words to her—words she’d had no way of hearing before today. Feeling him slipping away, she’d called to him, yelling his name and then screaming it when the answering silence had made it clear that it was too late.

Sobs wracked her body, and she collapsed on the bed once more. When she felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her, she realized Alaric was hugging her tightly. Now, just as before, he was there to comfort her when all hope was lost. “I’m so sorry, Elena,” he murmured next to her ear. She held on with everything she had, afraid that if he let go, she would shatter into a million pieces.

She wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that—minutes, hours, days—but when she eventually extricated herself from Ric’s embrace, she knew what she needed to do.

Gathering her resolve, she used her sleeve to wipe away the last of her tears. “I’m ready to go. Can you drop me off somewhere near Mystic Falls?”

*****

Getting out of the car, Elena zipped up her jacket and stuck her hands in the pockets. The night was cool, an early hint of fall in the air. As she closed the door behind her, she heard the window go down.

“You sure you don’t want me to come with you?”

She glanced back at Alaric, doing her best to keep her expression neutral. She knew if he saw her break down again, he’d be by her side in an instant. It was bad enough that he’d insisted on waiting for her instead of just dropping her off like she’d requested. “Yeah. I’ll be okay.”

Giving him a little wave, she turned and made her way into the woods. She walked slowly, in no hurry to reach her destination. Looking up at the sky through the treetops, she searched for any sign of stars, but it was too cloudy to see much of anything except the vague outline of the moon. _Damn. A wish or two would be nice right about now._

Up ahead, the iron fencing of the old cemetery came into view. Approaching the gate, she remembered the last time she’d been here—her, Stefan, Caroline, Jeremy, Matt, Alaric, and Tyler all dressed in black as they’d gathered to say their last goodbyes to Bonnie and Damon. Gripping the cold metal, she gently pushed it open and entered the all-too-familiar space.

Row after row of gravestones greeted her, and she counted them off to herself until she came to the beautifully polished marker bearing the name of her best friend. Kneeling down, she brushed her hand over the intricate engraving of a rose. “I’m so sorry, Bonnie. I messed up. I thought I could find a way to bring you back, but it didn’t work.”

Her tears fell in a steady stream as a slideshow of memories played in her head—birthday parties, shopping trips, school dances, football games, girls’ nights, graduation. Tucking them away like the priceless keepsakes they were, she kissed her fingers and pressed them against the stone.

Getting to her feet, she continued her trek through the graveyard until she was standing in front of the imposing crypt with “Salvatore” inscribed over the doorway. A chill raced up her spine as she grasped the handles and opened the heavy double doors. Taking a long match from the window ledge, she struck it against the rough wall and lit the old-fashioned candelabras on either side of the entrance.

Carrying the still-burning match with her, she moved about the chamber, lighting more candles as she went. Soon, the haunting darkness had been replaced by the soft glow from a dozen flames. Blowing out the match, she sat down on a small bench and stared at the plaques identifying the resting places of generations of Salvatores: Zachariah, Joseph, Zach.

Her eyes landed on the most recent one—Damon. The reality she’d been denying all summer finally came crashing down. All of her efforts had been useless; the charade and the countless lies—for what? The man she’d been planning to spend her endless days and nights with had been ripped from her life, never to return. As those thoughts settled in her heart like pebbles cast into a pond, she searched for the words to bid her lover a final farewell.

*****

After what felt like an eternity of free falling, everything was still once more. Damon kept his eyes firmly shut, his optimism about his new surroundings nearly nonexistent. Listening for any clues that might tell him where he’d ended up, he was surprised when the hoot of an owl and the sound of rustling leaves reached his ears. _What’d I do, get shipped off to Narnia?_ If he found himself in the middle of a forest with a fucking lamppost in it, he was going to—

“Damon?”

He was sure his mind was playing tricks on him until there was a tug on his arm followed by more whispering.

“Hey! Wake up.”

He cracked his lids a fraction of an inch, just enough to find out where he was and who was pestering him so persistently. Trees? Check. Run-of-the-mill woodland creatures? Check. Bonnie’s anxious face peering down at him like she was afraid he’d never make it out of la-la land? Check.

_Hold on a second . . ._

“Bonnie!” Lurching up off the ground in a move that was not his smoothest, he practically tackled her.

She laughed softly as she returned his embrace. “It’s good to see you, too. Wow, Jeremy wasn’t kidding. You really are an aggressive hugger.”

“Sorry.” Loosening his grip before Bonnie turned blue, he stepped back and took a minute to assess his physical state. He felt like his old self. His senses seemed to be firing on all cylinders; even though it was dark out, he could see perfectly, right down to the individual blades of grass beneath his booted feet. Bonnie’s comment suggested he still had his super strength, but he wasn’t particularly interested in uprooting a tree in order to prove it. Bending down, he grabbed a sharp-looking rock and quickly sliced it across his palm. When a dark red line appeared and then quickly faded, he breathed a sigh of relief. “Still a vampire.” He glanced at Bonnie. “How about you, Witchy? Can I use that nickname again?”

He watched her intently as she closed her eyes and splayed her hands out in front of her. Nothing happened at first, but then a flicker of movement caught his attention. A leaf slowly rose from the ground, and Damon scanned the trees to see if the wind had picked up. When they remained still, he realized Bonnie did indeed have her powers again. One by one, fallen leaves somersaulted through the air until they formed a circle around him and Bonnie. Her eyes opened and she gave him a radiant smile. “Looks like it.”

Lowering her arms, she let the leaves drift back down to earth. Damon brushed one off his jacket before searching the darkness in hopes of spotting something that would help him figure out where they were. The woods began to thin out a few feet in front of them, and he headed in that direction. Entering a clearing, he stopped when the gated border of a cemetery and the back of a small stone building came into view. Dim lighting from within shone through the stained glass window. _There’s no way . . ._

Suspecting it was only a cruel coincidence, he moved closer until he could read the names on the nearby grave markers: Honoria Fell, Johnathan Gilbert, George Lockwood. “I’ll be damned. She did it,” Damon whispered.

Coming up beside him, Bonnie gripped his arm. “Are we—”

“Home,” he finished for her. “We’re home.”

“Oh, my God,” she gasped. “Are you sure this is real?”

Damon was about to respond when a faint noise from inside the crypt made him pause. He listened, trying to decipher what he was hearing. Someone was speaking quietly, but it was broken up like the person was struggling to get the words out. When he recognized his name uttered with a sob, his heart froze in his chest.

Noticing that he’d gone unnaturally still, Bonnie shot him a concerned look. “What is it?”

“Elena.”

*****

Kneeling on the dusty floor of the mausoleum, Elena buried her face in her hands. She’d thought she was ready to do this, but every time she tried to convey her feelings, her voice was drowned out by a fresh torrent of tears. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, she gave it another go.

“Where do I start?” she laughed humorlessly. “Of course you wouldn’t apologize. It’s not in your nature, especially when you’d given up your life to save me, Stefan, Alaric, Enzo, Tyler, and Sheriff Forbes . . .” she trailed off. “Yeah, Ric told me about that, by the way—how you stopped to help Caroline’s mom before finding Bonnie. That’s the reason you were late, isn’t it? And you call yourself selfish? Far from it.

“I may not have a hundred and seventy-three years of experience to fall back on, but you’ve shown me enough to know that no one will ever love me the way you did. Vampire or human, it didn’t matter. Even when I turned off my humanity and said horrible things to you, you loved me anyway. You fought for me, protected me, made me feel like I belonged in a world I didn’t understand.

“God, I wasted so much time. Instead of pushing you away when we hit a bump in the road, I should have been trying harder to make it work. I’m sorry,” she cried. “I love you, Damon, and I will never stop loving you,” she said, echoing his words to her in the dream. “Maybe someday, we’ll be together again.”

A breeze drifted through the doorway, making her shiver. The air brought with it an achingly familiar scent—a unique combination of leather, bourbon, and spices. What she heard next was so startling that she jumped to her feet and nearly tripped over the bench. 

“Maybe sooner than you think, sweetheart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this before the show had revealed the name of Esther's first host, so Kira = Cassie.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Not my characters, obviously. Just playing in their world for a while.

_You put your arms around me_   
_and I’m home_

Elena forgot how to breathe as she stared at the man standing in the doorway of the crypt. As the sound of the blood rushing in her veins filled her ears, she ran a shaky hand through her hair. He remained completely still, but she could feel his eyes on her as they scanned every inch from the disheveled mop of loose curls on her head to her dusty, cobweb-covered boots. She studied him as well, realizing he was wearing the same clothes he’d had on the night he’d died.

Snapping out of her daze, Elena couldn’t grasp what she was seeing. It wasn’t possible; the spell had failed . . .

Or had it?

Her exchange with Kira—or Esther, rather—replayed in her mind: _“I trusted you. You said you’d help me!”_

_“I did.”_

Elena shook her head. _No, it couldn’t be._ There had to be an explanation. Maybe her desire to see Damon again was so strong that her muddled brain had conjured him up out of thin air. Talking to herself, she paced from one side of the room to the other. “I’m losing it. It’s gotta be a hallucination, or, or a dream,” she stammered. “That’s it—a dream. I must’ve cried myself to sleep.” She stopped mid-ramble to glance at Damon, who was watching her with a mixture of concern and bemusement written on his handsome features. “I’m sorry, but I can’t keep dreaming about you; waking up alone is too damn hard.”

Moving toward the nearest candle, she lowered her hand over the flame, hoping the pain from the burn would be enough to jolt her back to consciousness. “Time to face reality . . .”

“Elena, stop!” In the space of a second, Damon was in front of her, yanking her hand away and holding it between both of his. “You’re not dreaming. This is real. _I’m_ real.”

She slowly slid her free hand under his jacket and pressed it against his chest. When she felt the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm, she gasped. “I want to believe you, but I’m afraid if I blink, you’ll disappear again.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Curling a finger under her chin, he tilted her face up until she was looking at him. “Whatever you did, it worked, baby.”

Reading the truth in his mesmerizing pale blue eyes, she choked back a sob. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

“I made a promise to you, and you helped me keep it,” he murmured. Damon’s arms enfolded her, and she melted into his embrace. When her tears inevitably came, they were a reflection of joy and relief instead of the grief and hopelessness that had been her constant companions for the past several months. Holding him tightly, she rested her head on his shoulder and inhaled more of his comforting scent.

When she finally pulled back, it was only far enough to give her room to raise up and claim his mouth with hers. As their lips collided, she clutched the lapels of his coat and drank him in, relishing the low moan that reverberated in his throat. Breaking the kiss, she leaned in and whispered in his ear. “I love you, Damon. More than words can say.”

“Love you, too, ‘Lena. I was lost without you.” Kissing her forehead tenderly, he gave her a small smile and led her toward the open doors. “C’mon. Someone’s waiting to see you.”

Elena felt her mouth moving, but her voice had temporarily abandoned her. _Bonnie?_ Following Damon outside, she’d hardly left the crypt before he was stepping out of the way and she was being tackled by her best friend. If she hadn’t been a vampire, they probably would have fallen to the ground in a heap, but she managed to keep them both upright. Enveloping Bonnie in a hug, her vision went blurry as fresh tears stung her eyes. “I missed you so much.”

When they separated, Elena saw that Bonnie was crying as well. She wiped at her cheeks before taking Elena’s hand and giving it a squeeze. “I missed you, too. I don’t know how you managed it, but thank you.”

Damon came up behind Elena and tugged on the back of her jacket until she was leaning against him. As he wrapped his arms around her waist, she took a minute to let everything sink in. Accepting that the seemingly surreal reunion was in fact real, she reveled in the knowledge that her lover and her friend had been returned to her at last. Much to her chagrin, the maelstrom of thoughts swirling through her mind made the peaceful moment short-lived. “I have so many questions,” she said, shifting her gaze from Damon to Bonnie.

“I think that’s a given for all of us,” Damon answered while Bonnie nodded in agreement. “Needless to say, it’s been a hell of a . . . however long it’s been, and we could all probably use some R &R before playing the catch-up game. Plus,” he paused to look up at the rapidly lightening sky, “the sun will be coming up soon, and I seem to be minus one daylight ring.” He wiggled his bare finger for emphasis.

“Shit!” Elena frantically patted her pockets. “I have it, but it’s in my bag in the. . . . Oh, God. Alaric.”

Damon was instantly on alert. “What’s wrong with Ric?”

“No, it’s not that. He dropped me off and refused to leave me here by myself, so he’s waiting up by the road,” Elena clarified.

“Guess my old drinking buddy’s in for quite a surprise,” he chuckled softly. “Ready to go?”

“Most definitely. If I never set foot in another cemetery, it’ll be too soon.” Linking arms with Damon and Bonnie, she led them to the car.

*****

As Alaric’s vehicle came into view, Elena contemplated the best way to break the news. _Hey! Bet you’ll never guess who I ran into in the woods._ Her musings were interrupted when the driver’s side door was thrown open and Ric sped over to them. No one said a word as he gave the two people flanking her a thorough onceover. He opened and closed his mouth several times before his voice got with the program. “Uh, Elena? Care to tell me what’s going on? I haven’t had a drink since yesterday, so I can’t blame this on the bourbon.”

Thankfully, Damon spoke up, sparing her the trouble of trying to explain something she hadn’t yet fully wrapped her mind around. “It’s good to see you, too, pal. Long story short, my girl here managed to track down a witch who did a spell to bring us back, and, wonder of wonders, it worked.”

“Yeah, I know all about the spell.” He gave Elena a pointed look that she was sure Damon noticed. “Well, I see your sarcasm wasn’t harmed in the process.” A grin spread across Alaric’s face as he stepped forward to hug his friend, giving him a hearty clap on the back. “Welcome back, you pain in the ass.”

Damon laughed as he returned Ric’s greeting. “Miss me?”

“Are you kidding? I actually have a surplus in my liquor cabinet these days.” Pulling away, his expression became serious. “It hasn’t been the same without you. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Likewise.” Damon smiled at Elena as he tucked her against his side. “Thanks for looking out for this one.”

“She didn’t make it easy, but I guess it paid off in the end.”

Elena rolled her eyes and cuffed Ric on the shoulder. “Thanks.”

As Alaric turned his attention to Bonnie, embracing her affectionately, Elena walked to the car and popped the trunk. She rummaged through her bag until her fingers finally closed around the cold metal of the item she was seeking. Removing the large ring, she rubbed her thumb over the ornate “D” in the center. Sensing Damon hovering beside her, she turned to face him. “Give me your hand.”

When he did as she asked, she gently massaged the long digits before carefully sliding the lapis lazuli ring onto the middle finger of his left hand. Once it was firmly in place, Damon studied the piece of jewelry that had aided his survival for more than a hundred years.

“Better?” Elena murmured.

“Much. I’ve worn it for so long that it feels wrong without it.”

“I can imagine.”

“Thank you, by the way.” His fingers intertwined with hers, and he raised their joined hands to his mouth, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “I should have said it earlier.”

“That’s okay.” She ducked her head. “I was so close to losing hope. When you and Bonnie didn’t appear after the spell was completed, I thought the whole thing was a bust.”

“But it wasn’t, so no more worrying.” He cupped her cheek, and she gratefully leaned into his soothing touch.

Out of the corner of her eye, Elena noticed Alaric and Bonnie approaching. “We should probably get going,” she sighed, reluctantly stepping back. “I need to call Stefan.”

“You two ready?” Ric called to them.

“Yep.” Elena shut the trunk and moved to open the side door. “Can we stop at your place? I figured the others could meet us there.” She slid into the backseat, and Damon followed suit. Hearing the door on the other side open, Elena laughed when Bonnie hopped in next to her. Catching Ric’s eye in the mirror, she couldn’t help but smile. “How do you feel about being a chauffeur?”

“Very funny. Don’t you have a phone call to make?”

“On it.” Opening up her list of contacts, she scrolled through them and selected Stefan’s name. Putting the phone to her ear, she counted the rings and prayed he’d answer, especially considering how aloof she’d been during their last conversation. “C’mon, pick up.”

She was on the verge of hanging up and calling Jeremy instead when Stefan’s voice came on the line. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me. I need you to get in touch with the rest of the gang and have them meet me at Alaric’s in a couple hours. You, too, Stefan. It’s important. Trust me.”

*****

When they arrived at the apartment complex situated a short distance away from the Whitmore campus, Elena was filled with nervous energy. She was trying her best not to disturb Bonnie, who was napping beside her with her head resting on Elena’s shoulder. Damon was tracing invisible patterns on her palm, which helped to calm her somewhat, but she was still on edge. They’d been quiet during the drive, each of them lost in their own thoughts.

As the vehicle came to a stop, Elena saw that Caroline’s car and Matt’s truck were already in the parking lot. Presumably, Matt had brought Jeremy and Tyler with him. She scanned the street, but there was no sign of Stefan’s Porsche. It’d been in the boarding house’s garage when the Travelers had banished magic from Mystic Falls, but Ric told her that Matt had driven it beyond the boundary for Stefan to pick up.

Ric turned in his seat to look at her. “So, how do you want to do this?”

“I have to find Stefan. Wait here for a sec.” Carefully rearranging Bonnie so she was resting against the back of the seat, Elena gave Damon a quick kiss and climbed over his lap and out the door.

Running to the stairwell, she took the steps two at a time. When she reached the top, she hurried down the hall toward Ric’s apartment. Her hand was on the knob when a familiar voice rang out behind her.

“Elena? Oh, my God!”

She spun around just as Caroline caught her in a chokehold of a hug. “Hi, Caroline,” she wheezed, patting her friend on the back. “I know breathing’s not necessary, but I’d like to keep doing it.”

“Oops! Sorry.” The blonde vampire released her, giving her an apologetic look. “I’m just so glad to see you. We were worried when you disappeared and didn’t keep in touch, and then Alaric left, but he wouldn’t tell Stefan where he was going, and—”

“Whoa, slow down.” Holding up her hands, Elena grinned as Caroline’s rambling came to an abrupt halt. “I’ll explain everything, I promise. I’m really sorry for the way I left things, but I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t stay.” She paused as she listened to the people talking on the other side of the door. When she didn’t hear Stefan among them, she huffed in frustration. “Is Stefan here? His car’s not out front.”

“Yeah, he came with me . . .” Caroline hesitated, a frown blossoming on her pretty face. “Wait a minute. What’s going on? And what’s with the smile?”

_Ah, Caroline. Never one to overlook an important detail, or any detail, to be honest._ “I’ll tell you, I swear, but I need to speak with Stefan first. Please.”

“Okay, okay. Jeez. He’s outside, probably wandering around aimlessly. You know him and social gatherings.”

“Perfect; thank you. I’ll be back in a bit.” Giving her bewildered friend a quick peck on the cheek, Elena tore down the stairs and out into the bright morning sunlight, eager to track down Stefan and give him the good news.

*****

As Damon waited for Elena to return, he ran through a bunch of scenarios in his head, trying to envision what the reunion with his brother would be like. Had Stefan moved on with his life? Or had he been searching for a way to bring them back, à la Elena? Oddly enough, Damon hadn’t gotten any glimpses of him in the present day like he had with Elena. However, Stefan had been featured prominently in Damon’s walk down memory lane. He was curious to know if Stefan had seen those memories as he’d relived them—their childhood as inseparable mischief-makers, their troublesome teenage years, the pain of separation when Damon had gone off to war.

His reverie was interrupted when a flash of movement in the backyard caught his attention. “The fuck was that?”

“What?” Alaric’s eyes met his in the rearview mirror.

“Something’s back there.”

“A vampire-something?”

“I don’t know, but I’m about to find out. Stay here with Sleeping Bonnie.”

Getting out of the car before Ric could argue, he silently made his way to the small fenced-in yard behind the building. _Super. Nothing says “Welcome home!” like an impromptu vampire attack._ Turning the corner, he braced himself for impact, but what he found instead was a surprise of a different kind.

Clearing his throat, he addressed the person standing alone in the middle of the well-tended lawn. “Hello, brother.”

As Stefan whipped around, Damon stared at the sibling he’d been certain he’d never see again. His baby bro hadn’t changed much—same hero hair, same serious green eyes, same forehead with its numerous frown lines, although was it his imagination, or were there fewer lines than usual? He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but Stefan seemed lighter somehow, a little less like his typical broody self.

“Damon . . .” Stefan murmured, his expression one of disbelief. “How am I able to see you? Are you a ghost?”

“Nope,” he answered, putting extra emphasis on the “p.” “I’m pretty sure ghosts are a thing of the past with the Other Side gone and all. You can thank the tenacious Ms. Elena Gilbert and her trusty witch for my reappearance in the land of the living.”

“So that’s what she’s been doing all summer.” Stefan studied Damon for a while before he continued, a hint of doubt lingering in his voice. “I can’t believe it. How did she pull it off?”

“I don’t know all the details, brother. We haven’t had that conversation yet.”

Stefan walked toward him, gradually closing the distance between them. “So it really is you?” When Damon nodded, he stopped, his brows drawing together as if he were puzzled by something. “While you were gone, I would get visions of the two of us. Memories, actually. Some were familiar; some . . . weren’t. The day I was born, in particular. You did that, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, that was me. I hadn’t thought about that stuff in a long time, but your mind tends to wander when you don’t have anything better to do, and that’s where mine ended up,” Damon shrugged, never entirely comfortable laying his heart bare, especially where Stefan was concerned.

“It helped,” Stefan quietly admitted. “It felt like you were still with me, in a way.”

“Same here. And I was.”

Silence settled around them, full of their unspoken thoughts and feelings. _I missed you. I love you._ Damon was reminded of the night Stefan had apologized for forcing him to complete his transition. _I guess I just needed my brother._ The sentiment was as true now as it had been in 1864.

Before Damon realized that his brother had moved and was now standing directly in front of him, Stefan’s arms were around him and he was holding on like his life depended on it. Once the initial shock wore off, Damon returned the embrace. Neither spoke; it wasn’t necessary. Cliché or not, Damon acknowledged in that moment that actions mattered far more than words.

*****

Peeking around the side of the building, Elena gasped at the sight that greeted her. Stefan was hugging Damon, his knuckles white from gripping the elder Salvatore’s jacket so tightly. Damon had his back to her, so she couldn’t gauge his reaction, but she knew that this was exactly what he needed. What they both needed. Brothers reunited, as it should be.

Carefully slipping away before they noticed her presence, she went to collect Bonnie, eager to complete what Stefan and Damon had started. She knew Caroline was upstairs probably turning inside out with impatience. Matt, Tyler, and Jeremy had no idea why she’d called them together, so they had to be curious as well.

Back at the car, she gestured for Alaric to head up to the apartment while she opened the back door and roused Bonnie. As her friend blinked at her groggily, Elena couldn’t keep the grin off her face.

It was about time they all had a reason to smile again.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Not my characters, obviously. Just playing in their world for a while.
> 
> I had a blast writing this chapter, for reasons you'll soon discover. What's a reunion without a little smutty goodness? ;)

_Loving can heal_   
_Loving can mend your soul_

“So, where to?” Damon asked, tossing the last suitcase into Elena’s SUV. “I’d give just about anything to spend a week in my bed, but that’s obviously not an option,” he muttered, slamming the door shut.

He was eager to escape the non-stop blur of activity that had been their day so far. After spending a few more quiet moments in the yard with his brother, he’d promised to check back in after taking some time to just _be_ for a while. The two of them had then joined Elena and the others upstairs, and if he’d been shocked by Stefan’s greeting, it was nothing compared to the surprise hug bestowed upon him by Little Gilbert. Even Caroline had offered him a friendly smile, which was saying something.

They’d stayed for most of the morning, Stefan and Caroline working together to prepare a breakfast big enough for an army—pancakes, waffles, eggs, toast, sausage, bacon, hash browns—you name it, they cooked it. Apparently, the pair had grown quite close over the summer. It’d been good to see Stefan cracking jokes and participating in the general camaraderie. Caroline had even succeeded in coaxing more than one grin onto his face as they’d put together their spread.

Speaking of smiling, Damon had spent most of his time watching Elena laugh and catch up with her brother and friends. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her. He loved seeing her happy again, especially after what she’d put herself through to bring him and Bonnie back.

When Alaric brought out his best bottle of bourbon, he and Damon had shared a drink for old times’ sake. After they’d clinked glasses and downed the first round of life-affirming liquid, they’d polished off two more because if they didn’t defend their reputation as accomplished day drinkers, who would?

Around noon, the party had started to wind down, people leaving for their respective destinations: Matt was dropping Tyler off at his dorm before driving back to Mystic Falls; Jeremy and Bonnie, hand in hand, were headed to the Forbes cabin; Stefan and Caroline were planning to spend the rest of the day apartment hunting; and Alaric was late for his lunch date with a sexy doctor lady he’d met at the college.

After Elena had gathered whatever clothes she could find at Ric’s—Caroline had packed up Elena’s things from their dorm room and stored them at his apartment until she returned for them—they’d thrown everything into suitcases. Unfortunately, there had only been a few of Damon’s shirts and one pair of his jeans in amongst Elena’s stuff, so they were going to have to go shopping at some point. In the meantime, Damon had no problem ditching clothes entirely if it came to that and he’d told her so, delighting in the blush that had stained her cheeks.

As Elena came around the front of the vehicle and reached for the handle to the driver’s side door, Damon intercepted her, whirling her around and pinning her against the car parked next to hers.

“Damon!” she squealed. “What if there’s an alarm—”

He silenced her with a kiss, his mouth covering hers. His tongue traced the seam of her lips, demanding entrance. When she opened to him, he took full advantage, practically devouring her as they each fought for control of the kiss. Finally pulling back, he nipped her bottom lip. “Mmm, delicious. You were saying?”

“Never mind,” Elena panted. She leaned her head on the cool metal of the car while she caught her breath. “I was thinking we could go to the lake house. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect. Mind if I drive? I’ve had enough of being a passenger for one day.” His hand slid down her side and over her hip until it came to rest on the waistband of her jeans.

“Sure, go for it,” she murmured, watching him with a slightly dazed expression.

“Oh, I intend to, baby,” he teased as he slipped his fingers inside her pocket, taking his sweet time pulling out the keys.

When he dangled them in front of her with a wicked grin, she swatted his arm. “You’re incorrigible.”

“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

*****

When Damon brought the SUV to a stop in front of her family’s lake house, Elena glanced over at the man sitting beside her. She still couldn’t believe he was here with her; she felt like she needed to keep pinching herself as a reminder that this was really happening.

Noticing that Damon was being uncharacteristically quiet, she reached over and squeezed his hand. “Hey. Is everything okay? You haven’t said a word since we left the store.” She gestured toward the cabin. “Is it this place? I know when we were here last, things were pretty messed up with Jeremy being a hunter and the sire bond . . .” she trailed off, not wanting to resurrect memories better left in the past. “We can go somewhere else if you want.”

“No, it’s fine. This works.” He turned to face her, giving her one of his patented melt-your-heart smiles. “Just thinking is all. While I was . . . wherever, I would try to imagine what it would be like to see you again, be with you again. I never thought I’d be lucky enough to find out.”

Leaning over, she curled a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him in for a leisurely kiss. She took her time, exploring his mouth and running her tongue over his teeth until she felt the sharp tip of one of his fangs.

She sat back with a breathless laugh. “Hungry?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact. For you,” he said pointedly, letting his eyes roam over her body.

“Are you adopting the Mikael diet now?” she asked, cocking a brow.

“Nah. The only vamp I’m interested in feasting on is you.”

“Good to know.” Giving him a sly grin, she unbuckled her seat belt. “How about we unload this stuff, and then we’ll discuss this feast you’re planning.”

“Tease,” he chided, hitting the button that unlocked the rear hatch before hopping out and opening Elena’s door for her.

Between the two of them, they carted the luggage and groceries into the house in record time. After making a pit stop at a blood bank along the way, they had enough of a supply to last them a week.

Once everything had been brought inside, Elena busied herself transferring the eggs, milk, and other perishables into the fridge and freezer. When she discovered the last item in the bag, she burst out laughing. Holding up the pint of Ben and Jerry’s Karamel Sutra ice cream, she waved it in Damon’s direction. “This is your contribution, I presume?”

“Guilty. Seems appropriate though, wouldn’t you agree?” He wiggled his brows for good measure.

“Listen, Mr. One-Track-Mind. Why don’t you take a quick shower and change into some fresh clothes while I get dinner ready?”

“Is that a good idea? Should I alert the fire department?” he asked, shooting her a look of mock horror.

“Hey!” Plucking an apple off the counter, she lobbed it at him, unsurprised when he caught it and immediately took a big bite out of it.

“Thanks for the snack.” Giving her his signature smirk, he zipped up the stairs, disappearing from sight.

After a few minutes, the shower came on followed by Damon’s unexpectedly decent rendition of “I Want to Know What Love Is.”

“Keep that up, and I’ll drag you to a karaoke bar!” she hollered just to make sure he heard her over the sound of the water and his raised-lighter-worthy performance. When the singing only got louder in response, she giggled at his antics. “Honestly . . .”

Moving quickly, she put two pots on the stove—one for pasta, one for sauce—and searched the cupboards for a cutting board to slice up the fresh Italian bread she’d selected. Starting the water so it would be boiling by the time she returned, she ran out to the garage to collect some wood. Three armloads later, she was kneeling in front of the fireplace, coaxing a small flame into a snapping, crackling blaze.

Satisfied with her work, she made her way to the kitchen. Adding pasta to the bubbling pot of water, she emptied a jar of spaghetti sauce into the other one. She was in the middle of cutting up the bread when a creak on the stairs announced Damon’s presence. “That wasn’t very stealthy of you,” she commented, sawing into the loaf. “I think you’re losing your touch.”

“Well, I didn’t want to startle you while you were wielding that machete. Don’t you have a bread knife? You’re massacring it.”

Ignoring him while he rattled around in the drawers looking for the proper knife, she wasn’t prepared when he reappeared in her line of vision. Shirtless.

“Jesus, Damon. Don’t you give warnings? I nearly cut off my finger.” Her gaze wandered from his tousled, damp hair, to his glittering blue eyes and ever-tempting lips, down his chest and abdomen—dotted with a few stray water droplets—to the waistband of the low-slung jeans that were clinging precariously to his hips. Swallowing thickly, she refocused her attention on the mangled bread in front of her. “I packed shirts for you, you know.”

“Yeah, but it’s hot in here.” He nudged her with his hip, directing her toward the stove. “You take care of that, and I’ll deal with this.”

“Fine,” she grumbled, picking up a spoon to stir the sauce. “And it’s not that hot in here. You’re just trying to distract me.”

Anticipating his next move, she was ready when she felt his warm breath against her neck. “Is it working?”

Unfortunately, it didn’t stop the shiver that went through her. “What do you think?” she murmured, rubbing her arms as goose bumps erupted all over her skin.

“I. Think. You’re. Wearing. Too. Many. Clothes.” Each word was punctuated with a kiss as he traced a path from her throat to her collarbone.

She tilted her head back to give him better access. “I don’t know. Naked cooking doesn’t seem like a good idea,” she said, eyeing the pot of boiling pasta.

“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you try it, although I wouldn’t recommend frying anything, especially bacon. Hurts like a bitch.” Brushing his lips along her jaw, he finally pulled away, returning to his bread-slicing duties.

“Now who’s the tease?” she muttered, draining the pasta in the sink while he chuckled behind her. Checking the sauce once more, she collected plates, silverware, and glasses and set everything on the counter. “Where should we eat? Kitchen? Living room?”

“In there.” He pointed toward the couch situated in front of the fireplace. “You started a fire; we should enjoy it.”

He took a bottle of red wine out of the refrigerator and poured both of them a glass while Elena dished up the spaghetti, adding a piece of Damon’s perfectly cut bread to each plate. Carrying their dinner into the living room, they settled on the overstuffed couch. Watching Damon as he twirled some pasta around his fork, she was surprised when he raised it to her mouth. “What are you doing?”

“Feeding you,” he answered, smearing some of the sauce on her bottom lip. “Open up.”

She did as he asked, taking the bite of food and chewing slowly. She didn’t miss the way his eyes zeroed in on her tongue when she licked the sauce off her lip. Loading up her own fork, she held it in front of him. “Your turn.”

They alternated between trading forkfuls of spaghetti and bits of bread until their plates were nearly empty. Unable to keep her questions at bay any longer, Elena sipped her wine and glanced at Damon. “What was it like where you were?”

He sat quietly, staring into the flames until Elena began to wonder if she shouldn’t have asked. When he spoke at last, he sounded like he was a million miles away. “It was empty. There was light and warmth but no scenery or substance. It didn’t bother me in the beginning, but toward the end, it felt like a prison.”

Reaching over, she took his hand in hers, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles. “You were sharing your memories with me, weren’t you? At first, I thought I was just dreaming of our time together, but then I saw things that couldn’t possibly have been my own memories. How did you know I’d be able to see them?”

“I didn’t, at least not until I started having visions of you and feeling what you felt—grief, anger, fear, pain. I saw you get attacked by a witch and some weird chanting guy. Then you were in New Orleans, and all I could think about was Klaus getting his homicidal maniac on. It drove me fucking crazy not being able to help you. If anything had happened to you . . .” he left the dark thought unfinished.

She cupped his face, running her fingers over the light stubble on his cheek. “I’m fine, Damon. Nothing serious happened.” Trying to divert his attention, she picked a different topic. “What about Bonnie? Could you talk to her?”

“We couldn’t see each other; we didn’t have physical forms, but we would pick up on each other’s thoughts every now and then. That helped keep me sane, along with the memories and my connection to you.” He closed his eyes briefly, and when they reopened, they were a darker shade of blue. More intense. “Can we postpone the rest of the conversation until later? I’d rather focus on the here and now.”

“Of course.” Gathering the last of the pasta on her fork, she offered it to him. When he leaned forward to take it, a drop of sauce landed on his bare chest. “Oops, sorry.”

“You did that on purpose,” he said, grinning at her faux apology.

“Did I? Oh, well. I’m sure you won’t mind if I just clean it up real quick.” Pushing him backward until he was lying flat on the couch, she straddled his thighs. Bracing her arms on either side of him, she lowered her head, her tongue darting out to clean the sauce from his skin. She continued to torment him long after the spot was gone, slowly licking her way up his chest. Letting her fangs descend, she dragged the tip of one over his nipple, smiling at the growl that rumbled deep in his throat.

Before she could attend to the other nipple, he snagged her in his arms, flew up off the couch, and deposited her on the plush rug in front of the fireplace. With their positions reversed, Elena gave him a smug look. “Guess you’re not the only one who likes using his teeth for a little sensual torture.”

*****

“Remember that, do you?” Damon asked as he settled over Elena’s prone form. Parting her legs with his knee, he pressed his thigh against her core. He smiled down at her as she nodded, rocking her hips in an attempt to create the friction she was seeking. “This time it’s not just in our heads, baby.”

“That’s a good thing,” she moaned, scratching her nails lightly down his chest and belly until her fingers encountered the prominent bulge in the front of his jeans. Giving him a gentle squeeze, she started to undo the button when he grabbed her hand, stopping her.

“Uh-uh. You’re wildly overdressed, and I intend to remedy that.” Reaching for the hem of her shirt, he tugged it up and over her head. Next, he briefly shifted position so he could unzip her jeans and slide them off her long legs. Sitting back, he took a moment to admire Elena sprawled in front of him bathed in the warm light of the fire, wearing nothing but her black lace bra and a pair of matching panties. “Much better.”

“Glad you approve. Now, can we talk about ditching your pants?”

“Not just yet. I don’t want to rush this. I plan on savoring every second,” he whispered.

She groaned. “You’re going to make me go insane, aren’t you?”

“Only in the best ways,” he assured her, crawling up her body until he was at eye level with her lace-covered breasts. He used his tongue to tease her already hard nipples, licking and nipping her through the fabric. When she arched her back, he slid a finger underneath the front of her bra, releasing the clasp and parting the two halves. Taking a nipple in his mouth, he suckled and tugged on the firm nub until she cried out, her legs scissoring furiously.

Trailing a hand down her side, over her stomach, and between her tense thighs, he managed to spread her legs just enough to attend to the spot where she needed him most. Moving her damp panties out of the way, he eased a finger inside of her, biting back a moan as he felt how ready she was for him.

Elena’s nails dug into his shoulders as she writhed beneath him. “Damon,” she panted, “I know you want to make this last, but I can’t wait much longer.”

“Hang on, sweetheart,” he soothed. Standing up, he shucked off his jeans and tossed them on a nearby chair before rejoining her on the rug. While she pulled her bra the rest of the way off and shimmied out of her undies, he laid down beside her. Correctly guessing his intentions, she straddled his hips, his erection brushing against her lower belly. Lifting up, she positioned him at her entrance and slowly lowered herself onto his cock. They groaned in unison as she paused to let her body readjust to his impressive size.

Once he was buried to the hilt in her tight sheath, he grasped her hips, raising her up and letting her sink back down on his thick shaft. He repeated the action once, twice, three times until she reached for his hands, intertwining their fingers and using the support to set her own rhythm.

As Damon watched her graceful movements become pleasured abandon, he knew this moment would be seared into his memory forever. The sight of her—head thrown back in ecstasy, the red undertones in her hair emphasized by the firelight, her full breasts bobbing as she rode him—was pushing him ever closer to the edge. When Elena’s slick walls clenched around his cock, gripping him in her velvet heat, he gritted his teeth and tried to stave off his impending orgasm.

Sitting up, he swept her hair aside and nuzzled her throat, thrusting into her as she continued to bounce on his lap. Tracing her throbbing vein with his tongue, he felt his fangs punch out of his gums, eager for a taste of her. Snaking a hand between them, he rubbed his thumb over her clit until she was bucking against him. As he sank his teeth into her neck, she screamed out his name, her release crashing into her. With one last jerk of his hips, Damon followed her into oblivion, his shout echoing through the house. “Fuck, Elena!”

Easing them back down to the floor, he gently laved the blood from the rapidly disappearing puncture marks he’d left on her throat. She shuddered in his arms, a small sigh of contentment slipping past her lips. “Can we stay like this forever?” she asked, resting her head on his chest.

“Works for me.” He combed his fingers through her tousled locks, basking in the aftermath of his true reunion with the amazing woman who was now scattering tiny kisses over his heated skin. “I love you, ‘Lena.”

She gazed up at him, her beautiful brown eyes glowing with happiness. “Love you, Damon. Always.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Not my characters, obviously. Just playing in their world for a while.
> 
> Last chapter! Thanks to everyone for reading!
> 
> I'm planning to write a part two/sequel of sorts, so stay tuned. :)

_Now I’ve got you in my space_   
_I won’t let go of you_

A frisson of pleasure shot up Damon’s spine, making his back arch and a groan slip from his lips. Fighting his way out of the haziness of sleep, he cracked his lids, blinking as the bright sunlight that was no match for the thin curtains assaulted his sensitive eyes. He found himself longing for the heavy velvet drapes that kept his bedroom at home sunshine free when the thought was wiped from his mind by another wave of blissful sensation. His head jacked back against the pillows, and he gripped the sheets until the sound of tearing fabric reached his ears. “Fuck!”

The feel of something tickling his stomach and groin made him look down toward the foot of the bed. What he discovered there had him wondering if he hadn’t died and gone to Heaven. For real, this time. Elena was kneeling between his spread legs, one hand braced on his thigh and the other circling the base of his sex, her hair falling over her shoulders to brush against his skin. Noticing that he was finally awake, she glanced up at him with a devilish grin. “Mornin’, handsome.”

Whatever he was about to say vanished as her tongue swirled around the head of his now painful arousal. Taking him into her mouth, she sucked and licked until his eyes rolled back in his skull. Pulling back, she dragged her teeth lightly over his thick shaft. “Christ, Elena,” he growled. “You keep that up and I’m gonna come.”

She gave a throaty purr of satisfaction, the vibrations pushing him to the brink. Releasing him briefly, she continued to stroke him while he cursed under his breath. “That’s kind of the point,” she murmured. Leaning down and giving him a leisurely lick, she slowly worked her way up his hard length.

When she reached the top, Damon shot up, snagged her by the arms, and tumbled her onto the mattress, quickly pinning her beneath him. She squirmed and tried to dislodge him, but he refused to budge. Unfortunately, all of her wriggling wasn’t helping the situation in his nether regions. Out of pure primal instinct, he nudged her head to the side and latched onto her neck with his blunt human teeth. He didn’t break the skin, but she received the message, going absolutely still in response to his warning bite. Letting go, he soothed the spot with his tongue before brushing his lips over her ear. “Easy, Feisty,” he rasped. Bracing himself above her, he gazed down at Elena’s flushed face, her expression a mixture of anticipation and exasperation.

“Dammit,” she pouted. “I knew I should have used the handcuffs.”

“Like those would’ve stopped me,” he scoffed. “Plus, it’s best that the headboard is still attached to the bed. Trust me.” He winked at her, settling between her legs and sitting back on his heels. Hooking his arms under her knees, he dragged her toward him so that her cute little behind was flush with his thighs, her hips angled upward. Raking his eyes over the gorgeous woman splayed in front of him, he couldn’t resist cupping her breasts and giving them a gentle squeeze. “I’ll never be able to get enough of you,” he murmured, trailing a hand over her belly until it came to rest at the top of her sex.

Elena opened her mouth to speak, but her words were halted by the moan that escaped her when he parted her slick folds, rubbing himself against her teasingly. “Damon!” she gasped.

“Hmm?” He skimmed his thumb lightly over her clit, delighting in the way she cried out in reaction to his touch. _So responsive._

“You’re doing it again,” she accused, her breath coming in little pants.

“Doing what?” he asked innocently, shifting slightly so that the tip of his cock slid inside her.

“Tormenting me.” She tried to lift her hips to draw him in further, but he held her still. “Mercilessly,” she added, digging her nails into his arm.

“Oh, sorry.” He grinned in a way that indicated he was anything but. Surging forward with a swift thrust, he filled her completely. “Better, baby?”

“God, yes,” she sighed in pleasure as he rocked against her. “Don’t stop. Ever.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Gripping her hips, he pumped into her with a steady rhythm, savoring every sexy sound that spilled from her lips. When she wrapped her legs around his waist, he took advantage of the change in position, driving even deeper. It wasn’t long before she was writhing in ecstasy, her hands fisted in the already torn sheets. As she shuddered and tightened around him, he knew she wasn’t going to last much longer. She wasn’t the only one, he noted, recognizing the rapid approach of his own orgasm.

Elena’s eyes closed briefly before refocusing on him. “Harder, Damon.”

More than happy to oblige, he quickened his pace until they were both on the verge of release. “Let go, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

His words did the trick, and he followed Elena over the edge as she surrendered to the overwhelming sensations flooding her body. As they collapsed in a sweaty, breathless heap, Damon pulled her against him, nuzzling a particularly sensitive spot on her neck while she ran her hands soothingly over his slick skin. They stayed that way, quietly soaking up the peaceful moment, until he felt Elena nip his wrist.

Damon glanced at her, enjoying the sight of her sharp little fangs clamping down on his arm. “Hungry?” he asked, repeating the question she’d posed to him yesterday. When she nodded, he rolled them over so she was resting on top of him. “Guess we’d better do something about it,” he said, tilting his head back and baring his throat. As she leaned in for a taste of him, a mischievous smile bloomed on his face. “After this, I think we should partake in some naked breakfast.” At her skeptical look, he caught her lips in a quick kiss. “It’ll be fun. No bacon, I swear.”

*****

_New Orleans_

As the powerful witch currently inhabiting the body of a petite teenage girl moved about the mausoleum gathering the necessary ingredients for her spell, the two men flanking the doorway watched her intently. Setting everything on a table in the center of the room, she began sprinkling various herbs into a bowl. When she was finished, she closed her eyes and began to chant softly. Every candle scattered around the small room flared in response to her words, the flames bathing the space in a warm glow.

After a few minutes, she paused to collect the three glass vials laid out next to the bowl. Opening each of them, she poured their contents into the herbal mixture. Once the vials had been emptied, one of the men—the more reserved of the pair—cleared his throat, drawing her attention.

“Pardon the interruption, Mother, but what exactly are you hoping to achieve with this spell?”

“Ah, Finn. I’m surprised it was you who chose to ask. I expected it to be Kol, whose incessant curiosity always gets the best of him,” she mocked, directing her gaze at her sons, both camouflaged, as she was, in the guise of others. “Thanks to Elena Gilbert’s naïve generosity, I now have the means to return to my original form and the additional powers that come with it. By providing me with the blood of not one, but two doppelgangers, plus that of a hunter as a bonus, she all but ensured the success of the spell.” Lifting the bowl, she swirled the concoction around until the thick liquid had blended with the herbs. “Resurrecting her vampire beloved and the Bennett witch was a small price to pay. If they become a threat, they can easily be redisposed of.”

Bringing the bowl to her mouth, she slowly drank the mixture while Finn and Kol looked on—one in wonder, the other in dread. When she was done, she dabbed at her lips with a handkerchief. As her sons continued to stare, her appearance gradually altered until the visage of the young girl had been replaced by that of the woman who had turned her entire family into vampires. Dusting off her hands, she gave them a smile filled with dark promise. “Now, shall we go pay your brother a visit?”

*****

Elena was pretty sure she couldn’t move even if she wanted to. She was sprawled on the couch in front of the fireplace dressed in one of Damon’s black button downs, and well, not much else. Her body ached in all the best ways, and she stretched her tired limbs, wondering if she could talk Damon into giving her a massage later. Just as she was starting to doze off, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome himself padded into the room with nothing but a towel wrapped around his slim hips, carrying his prized acquisition from the previous day’s shopping trip. Setting the ice cream container on the side table, he lifted up her feet and sat down on the couch, rearranging her legs in his lap.

“Are you falling asleep on me?” he asked, trailing his fingers from the top of her foot to her polished toes.

“If you tickle me, I will not be responsible for my actions,” she warned, cracking open an eye to glare at him.

Chuckling, he raised both hands in surrender. “Okay, fine. Nice shirt, by the way.”

“Thanks.” She gestured to the terry cloth covering the lower half of his delectable self. “Nice . . . towel. I’m surprised you bothered.”

He shrugged, reaching for the Ben & Jerry’s. “You got a little messy last night with the spaghetti. I’m just taking precautions.” Peeling off the lid, he dug out a spoonful of the delicious treat. “Want some?”

“Precautions, my ass. You loved it.” Groaning, she pulled herself into a sitting position and scooched over next to him. “Of course I do.”

After delivering the spoon to her waiting mouth, he scooped up some for himself. “Mmm, that’s pretty good,” he said, making a satisfied smacking sound with his lips before putting the ice cream down and focusing his attention on her. “Since you got to play Twenty Questions yesterday, tonight it’s my turn.”

“Okay, shoot. But can we eat and talk?” she asked, making grabby hands at the container that was just out of reach.

“If you insist,” he sighed dramatically, passing it to her along with the spoon. “So, I couldn’t help but notice the look Ric gave you in the woods when I mentioned the spell that brought us back. What was that all about?”

_Shit._ “I was hoping you didn’t pick up on it,” she muttered. “I should have known better.” When he cocked a brow expectantly, she continued. “Ric thought it was too dangerous.”

“He wasn’t alone. I distinctly remember hearing something about your blood, Stefan’s, and Jeremy’s in one of the visions I had. Why do I get the feeling you’re not telling me everything?”

Elena stuffed another gob of ice cream into her mouth to keep from having to answer him right away. She finally swallowed, staring into the fire. “The witch needed blood from the people with the strongest connections to you and Bonnie. She only took a small amount. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“And what about this witch? Who was she anyway?” When she stayed quiet, he cupped her cheek and turned her so she was facing him. “Elena?”

When she spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. “We think it was Esther Mikaelson.”

“Holy fucking hell.” He dragged a hand through his still-damp hair. “How? I thought Alaric killed her.”

“He did. Maybe she came back while the Other Side was falling apart.” She paused, her eyes locking with his. “She referred to Ric as her ‘hunter.’”

“Dammit. Did she hurt you?” he asked, concern written on his features.

“No.” She brushed a stray piece of hair from his forehead as she tried to ease his worry. “She knocked us out with some witchy herbs and took off, but that’s all.”

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his lap. “Well, she’ll be a thorn in Klaus’s side now. Let him deal with her,” he said, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“Sounds like a plan.” She offered Damon the next taste of Karamel Sutra, and he teased her by slowly licking it from the spoon. Laughing at his antics, she removed the utensil from his tempting mouth. “Perfecting the art of seductive ice cream eating, are we?” She was about to give it her best shot when a buzzing sound caught her attention. “Crap. I think that’s my phone. I’ll be right back.” Carefully extricating herself from his lap, she made her way to the kitchen.

After pawing through her purse, she found her cell and checked the screen. Sure enough, she had a missed call and voicemail. Thinking that it was probably Caroline checking to see if the house was still standing, she hit “play” and listened to the message.

_Elena, love. Long time, no chat. I hear you were in my charming city not too long ago, but sadly, our paths didn’t cross. I have a feeling that’s about to change. You see, I had the misfortune of running into my bitch of a mother just now. She informed me that she has you to thank for the return of her body and her full powers. Since this conundrum is your fault, I’m going to let you fix it. And love? Let me be perfectly clear. If you fail to remedy the situation, I won’t hesitate to send Damon and Bonnie back to the afterlife along with whatever friends and family you have left. Have a pleasant evening. I expect I’ll be seeing you soon._

_Click._

“Oh, God.” Dropping her phone on the counter, Elena paced back and forth, wracking her brain for a solution that wouldn’t be the death of all of them.

Unfortunately, Damon heard her exclamation and appeared in front of her seconds later. “What’s wrong?”

She looked up at him, her brown eyes wide with fear. “We have a problem. A _big_ one.”


End file.
